


Esoteric Silence

by clearface



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Harley Keener, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Pepper Potts, BAMF Peter Parker, BAMF Tony Stark, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bisexual Tony Stark, Bottom Peter Parker, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gay, Gay Harley Keener, Genius Harley Keener, Genius Peter Parker, Harley Keener is a Flirt, Harley Keener is a little shit, Humor, Hurt Peter Parker, Hydra (Marvel), I love that tag, Kidnapped Harley Keener, Kidnapped Peter Parker, Kidnapping, M/M, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Morgan Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Sibling, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Harley Keener, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Peter Parker, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Spidey Sense (Marvel), Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man), The Ten Rings (Marvel), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is Not Helping, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony lives, Whump, Worried May Parker (Spider-Man), clint dies instead of nat, harley cracks too many jokes, peter Really finds out what he can do with his powers, tony stark is a little shit, tony wonders WHY he did this, whoops my finger slipped, you know what theres no smut but peters definitely a bottom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2020-04-10 01:25:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19075855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearface/pseuds/clearface
Summary: Somehow, Tony Stark was able to wield all six Infinity Stones and come back still breathing. It shocks everyone, but the world moves on, restoring itself back to where everyone once was. But this time, however, it's without Iron Man there. It's no shock Tony retired; he has a family to take care of, including an overwhelmed Peter Parker, who's trying to figure out his (and Spider-Man's) place in the world, and whether or not he's ready to start saving it on the daily. As if he doesn't already have too much on his plate having to worry about, (such as but not limited to: his concerned aunt, a new role as an Avenger, his friends concerned about his mental state, a little five-year-old girl excited about her so-called brother's return, his mentor he has yet to internally accept as a true father figure, and the world's pressure on Spider-Man that he's probably overexaggerating), Tony drops a seventeen-year-old boy right at his feet. A cute, charming boy that Peter can't quite understand.They get along. Peter starts caring, more than he realizes, and finds safety in Harley Keener.Nobody's gonna take that away from him.(But they'll try.)





	1. Maybe This Is All That I Can Be

**Author's Note:**

> before you read, a few changes in this fic that stray from endgame canon:
> 
> tony is alive (more on that later)  
> natasha survives vormir, clint taking her place  
> the final battle in endgame took place on titan rather than at the compound (the avengers used the space stone to relocate everyone before bruce snapped, leading thanos to titan to fight instead of at the compound)  
> steve didn't stay in the past, he got his dance and then returned like he was supposed to and has retired with bucky, still giving sam the shield
> 
> and a few other things  
> may is a nurse  
> most avengers are residing at the compound (most of them just havent gotten there yet)  
> this will not be ffh compliant obviously
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from W.D.Y.W.F.M? by the neighbourhood

"Are you sure you're fine here for now?" Tony's firm voice was soft-edged from behind Peter, a hand on his shoulder as the two stood in the doorway of a vacant bedroom that had been untouched for a good five or so years.

It looks no different than Peter remembers, however, there's a few more textbooks on the desk and a few unread letters. The furniture has collected dust. There's a toy Iron Man helmet sitting in the corner of the room by the bed, and Peter knows exactly what it is and where it's from but can't find it in him to ask how or why Tony retrieved it and decided to put it there in the first place.

He turns around, nodding and clearing his throat. "Yeah, yeah it's fine. I'll be alright. This place needs a few people to revamp it, another one won't hurt." Tony had taken no time to make sure the compound was still in decent condition, even if the previous fiasco was settled in space after he decided that Thanos wouldn't come near the compound again. Peter offered to stay with May in the compound until they could get their apartment back, which would take a long while. The decimation left the world in shambles of course, and it was no more friendly to the Parkers. Tony had made sure one of the first things he did before settling in the lake house was clearing out their tiny apartment and putting their belongings in storage before people eventually made their way in and claimed it as it would eventually be like.

Peter reunited with May as soon as possible, as soon as he got back on Earth. May, who was just as confused as her nephew, was somewhat understanding when Tony was insistent on being with Peter as much as possible and making sure that he and May and a few others had an adequate therapist to talk them through everything, and honestly, May was grateful for it. Peter was equally as attached to Tony, even though he didn't remember much, he was burdened with the memory of his painful exchange with Tony before he was apparently snapped out of existence and it carried with him for a long time. So after a long talk, some reassuring, and a good ol' May Parker "you sent my nephew to outer-fucking-space-where-he-could've-died" slap to Tony's face, things were settled as best they could be.

Tony looked at the kid with deep eyes, face in a hard structure before it softened completely and Peter was brought into a hug. Peter leaned into the hug and closed his eyes, knowing at least one memory just came flooding back into the man's burdened brain. He could hear Tony's heartbeat, and the mentor pulled away and kept a hand on his kid's shoulder. "Okay, well, there's only a few others here, but it'll fill up faster than you think and all that. As I said, I put May a few doors down so it's easy to find her. And if you want to change anything in the room, just call Pep on her personal, and FRIDAY's here for whatever you might need her for. If you get lonely, feel free to call up your little friends or something, get Romanoff to play some rounds of blackjack with you, I don't know."

Peter was patient through Tony's ramblings as always, he never minded. Tony had picked up a habit of never shutting up whenever he was slightly worried or nervous, and Peter didn't really know where it came from, but it was never any trouble. Leaving Peter in the compound was probably nerve-wracking for Tony, especially after Peter had spent substantial time at the lake with him and Pepper and Morgan over the past few months. By a substantial amount of time, Peter meant practically living there while he finished the last of his school year. He would say May lived there as well, but she was so preoccupied at the hospital that he didn't see her much up until now. He met Tony's eyes again. "Right," Peter put his lips into a thin smile. "The room is fine, Mr. Stark, don't worry."

Tony kept his eyes on the boy. "Thought we got past the Mr. Stark phase, kid."

"Sorry," Peter said sheepishly, "habit."

  
By six, Peter was sitting in the kitchen, a cream soda in hand as he scrolled through Twitter. Spider-Man was trending thanks to his heist saving some captives from a highly dangerous and high tech dungeon thing right in the thick of New York a few days ago. They'd allegedly been there before everyone was snapped back, and if Peter hadn't seen their heat signatures while swinging through a few different boroughs, he didn't know how long they would've ended up there for. It'd been at least a solid three months after Peter returned to Earth and fought Thanos with thousands of other crazy people Strange had brought in, and now that Iron Man was no more (Tony happily retiring), the stress of what exactly Peter should do weighed him down day and night besides normal patrolling. Tony insisted that everything would be okay. Captain Rogers had passed on his shield to Sam so that he too could retire and live the rest of his life stress-free knowing he wouldn't have to fight to make sure Bucky was okay anymore. Peter definitely wasn't alone as far as the Avengers went, but the stress of keeping up an almost post-apocalyptic city he wasn't even there to see fall haunted him. Pepper and Tony had plans to announce who exactly Spider-Man was to the world in a few months nearing his eighteenth (or 23rd?) birthday, and then Peter would be out to the world, just like everyone else, so he had to prepare for his future responsibilities. He just didn't think he was quite ready. He had done a bit of training pre-snap, and he had a good slew of combat skills under his belt and could now handle most all situations somewhat easily and emerge victoriously, but that was just his marginalized missions. Not Avengers paygrade missions. And that was the type of stuff he'd have to do. The entire world was screaming at Spidey to take up Iron Man's role as one of Earth's best defenders. 

It terrified the shit out of him.

He already had to protect May. And his friends. And the Starks (although Pepper said she'd get the hang of that herself-- the Iron Rescue armor was for her family and occasional missions only. Unlike Tony, she was a CEO. Her priorities couldn't just be being a superhero, but when it came to her family, she'd be the one on top of making sure they were okay. Peter understood).

But now he had to be a part of protecting the world. And if he didn't do that, it'd be his fault when everything came crashing down. It meant he had to be prepared, he had to think one step ahead of the villain. Physically it was a piece of cake thanks to his lovely little Spidey sense, but mentally and technically it was another story.

_**@Hannah_Baxton77** _

_Looks like #SpiderMan is about to be the next Iron Man... he looks a little small for the job lol_

 

_**@spideysbiggestfan0** _

_Spider-Man back at it again being a savior to us all! Great work dude!!!_

 

_**@PeopleAgainstHeroes** _

_#Spiderman is NOT capable of saving us from destruction. He's probably just as destructive and cold-hearted as @Stark and we all know it! He thinks he's a God and he is Not! #SuperheroesAreCriminals!_

_**@rosieroxie**_

_honestly at this point superheroes are the closest things to god that we have right now literally shut the fuck up_

 

_**@MSNBC** _

_Following New York hero Spider-Man's recent victory, the masked hero has the public wondering if he will lead a similar path that the retired universal hero Iron Man took, and what this means for the future of superheroes as we know it. msnbc.com_

 

Peter locked his phone when he started to get a headache.

_Savior, the next Iron Man, universal hero, a god..._

Peter felt sick.

Someone walked into the kitchen, but he didn't bother looking up to see who it was and instead sat there and ended up watching Natasha Romanoff make herself a big glass of chocolate milk from across him.

"You look stressed as hell, Peter," she commented. Peter couldn't miss her maternal tone. She loved kids, and Peter was no exception. He always admired that about her, even if he didn't know her all too well. "What's bugging you?" She took a seat next to him.

"I dunno," Peter shrugged. "Things are weird."

"You can say that again," she snorted, taking a sip from her straw. She had spent five years abandoned by her only family only to have to throw her best friend off a cliff in space in exchange for a glowing orange rock. She was no stranger to weird. Or tragedy. The boy blinked.

"Do you think I'm capable of saving the world?" Peter blurted out before he could even think about what he was saying. His face was towards his lap.

Natasha set her glass down, "Who says you have to save the world?"

"It feels like everyone. There's just... a lotta pressure. What happens when something threatens everything I love along with everything else and I just can't stop it?"

"Well for one," Natasha said. "You gotta realize you can't just put that amount of weight on those shoulders of yours. Nobody can work under that pressure. Second, I know you're more of a lone wolf when it comes to doing the whole save-people shebang. And I'll give it to you, you're good working alone, but if stakes ever get high again, God forbid they do, you won't be alone. You're part of the team now. We got eyes on you, you got eyes on us. All the time, whenever the world needs it."

Peter looked at her slowly, feeling like a child as he gulped, nodding slowly.

"But I think if it came down to that bizarre event that you were alone against the world," Nat said, "If you're anything like your father, you have a good chance. You just stay on top of your game, stay your positive little happy self, and you're good to go."

Peter froze up at her word choice, forcing a smile to cover his blushed cheeks.

"However, don't take that straight to heart. You're not alone, like I said, and there should be no occasion where you're on your own like that. It's a team effort here. You know that." She gave him a light punch to the arm, almost delicate.

Peter nodded, taking everything in slowly. Natasha sipped her chocolate milk. "Thank you, Nat," he said. "Also, uh, Mr. Stark isn't my dad."

"Family isn't always blood," Natasha replied, ruffling his hair. Peter sighed, trying to stop the smile that came to him. The thought was scary to come to terms with, but it still made Peter warm and fuzzy nonetheless. It wasn't uncommon that people teased both Tony and Peter for sharing that kind of bond, it even came to a point where Scott Lang ended up mistaking Peter to be the product of one of Tony's one-night stands. Peter will never forget the pained yet stone-still shocked expression that was on Tony's face after that comment was made. Or the embarrassment it caused Peter himself. Or the humiliated look that crossed Mr. Lang's face when he realized how wrong he was (even though Natasha gave a very ominous look to the three that admittedly terrified Peter just a little).

He was snapped out of his memories by none other than Tony himself. "What are you doing with my kid, Romanoff?" Tony questioned with an accusatory look on his face. The tease in his voice was hard to miss.

"Drinking till we don't remember our names, duh," she responded, holding her milk up. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm leaving," Tony said in a flat tone. Peter bit the inside of his lip, trying to forget about the obvious drop in his stomach. "But I came to look for you," he said, pointing to Peter, "so I could tell you bye."

"O-Oh," Peter squeaked, wincing at his voice crack. Of course Tony was gonna tell him goodbye. Natasha smiled at the two, and Peter gave her a look. He hopped off the stool to meet Tony in a hug. The older man sighed, just like he had in the morning, patting Peter's back. "Bye," he told Mr. Stark. The hug was quicker this time.

"Bye, kiddo. Tell FRIDAY if you need anything okay? Or call me, I don't care. Don't video chat though, because Morgan will steal the phone and talk to you until 6 AM about God knows what and convince you to swing over in the suit and let you web up the entire house with her. And tell May I said bye, and if she needs anything to let me know too."

Peter gave him a thumbs up. "Got it. Tell Pepper and Morgan I say hi and that I miss them, and that I'll visit sometime soon."

"Okay. Are you sure you're good?" Tony's eyes were reminiscent of that time Peter was first recruited to join the Avengers, his first real visit to the compound where he turned down the spot.

"Yes."

"100%?"

"Yes, Tony, it's all good. I'm alright here, don't worry."

Tony bit his lip. "Okay," he finally said, backing away towards the hall. "Bye, Pete. I'll see you later."

Peter waved. "Bye!"

Natasha turned in her stool. "No hugs for me?" she joked as Tony left.

"Nope, my hugs are reserved strictly for seventeen year old boys with brown eyes and brown hair named Peter Parker, and you don't check any of those boxes!" Tony called as he walked down the hall.

"Rude!"

Peter chuckled, walking back to the bar to retrieve his phone and soda. Nat didn't move, and despite her joking tone, there was something in her eyes Peter identified as what could be loneliness. He wondered how okay she really was. So he turned to her with a soft voice, saying, "Hey, uh, my Aunt is all alone in her room probably reading or something boring, maybe I could get some cards and we could all play together? I-I hear you're great at card games."

Natasha gave him a warm smile, eyes softening. "You're on, kid."

 


	2. We're Going Too Fast, Fast, Save Us Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for the kudos and positive feedback on the first chapter! glad you guys are enjoying this!
> 
> chapter title from slowtown by twenty one pilots

Peter started his first morning in the compound out of the compound.

He and May went out for breakfast to a cafe not too far away, one that FRIDAY had deemed "Avengers Approved" which Peter knew definitely meant just "Tony Stark Approved." The cafe itself wasn't crowded, few people scattered here and there that Peter assumed to be regulars. He and May sat at a small table for two, plates filled with bagels and yogurt. Peter was happy to be spending time with his aunt, who looked tired from her relentless working at the hospital. He hoped they'd get to spend more time with each other as the summer progressed because they’d definitely missed out on bonding time. Peter's phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it so he could focus on the conversation May initiated.

"It's nice to actually be able to get out and go do something with my favorite nephew," May smiled.

" _Favorite_ nephew, huh?" Peter asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Do you have other orphaned nephews you aren't telling me about?"

May rolled her eyes. "Oh, give me a break," she said. Peter chuckled, smiling.

His phone buzzed again. He elected to ignore it. Again.

They made more small talk, eating their food while cars started driving past them, the usual morning traffic. Peter relished the feeling of normalcy, having May eat breakfast with him, seeing regulars at a cafe and knowing people were on to continue their daily commutes just like usual. He took a bite out of his bagel. It made him feel better about where he was, familiar, safer, a time and place where he could just relax and escape—

 _Buzz_.

May raised her eyebrows. "You're quite popular today there, kiddo."

Peter blushed, embarrassed as he took his phone out of his pocket, giving it strictly one glance before he powered it down. A bunch of stuff about Spider-Man. This better not be the new usual, Peter thought. Like he said he would do, the boy closed his phone and shrugged. "Just...just spider stuff," he told his aunt. May's expression turned immediately. She knew. Peter almost hated that she was so good at this, but he was grateful.

"You did do a pretty great job at saving lives the other day," she said. "I watched you on the news. You look exactly like a swift little hero there."

Peter wanted to scoff at May's choice of words, but he just stayed silent on it. "Yeah," he said, shaking his oncoming nerves away.

"You know," May told him, "You’re starting to handle some pretty big stuff, and you’re really getting the hang of it. But I always admired how you turned down all the Avengers stuff to do small things. Even if I'm not too big of a fan of the whole spider thing, it was always nice to see you stay grounded, being yourself. That's a really important trait to have. And I think Tony admires that too."

_But I have to step up and be the big guy._

Peter wished he could tell May that things were bound to change. But he just nodded instead, burying the thought so he could dig up the grave later. When he was ready.

"I'm not called the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man for no reason," he gave her a tight smile, and reading her eyes Peter saw the softness in it. He couldn't break that softness. He didn't know how to tell her. Peter felt awful.

 

They got back to the compound and Peter spent the rest of the day in a lab, tinkering with his shooters and his suit, talking to Karen to keep a conversation. He knew it was a bad habit to spend too much time working, but there was no way he was going to just... stop. A live Twitter feed of Spider-Man related things was pulled up to his left, and he read through them to see just exactly what people were expecting. He never thought he'd be in a position where he was taking advice from random people about what to implement into his Spidey tech, and it brought a little sliver of amusement to Peter's predicament.

Building web-shooters was never a hard task at all. He had the mechanics and process down to a precision as if it was almost engraved in his brain. Though he couldn’t say the same for his Spidey suit, that was fine because Tony never really had a large input on Peter's shooters. They were Peter's invention. Even in the Iron Spider armor, Peter had noticed, the shooters' overall design was only slightly altered from the original and almost amplified to fit the aesthetic and work using the nanites that the suit itself was made of. Peter took pride in the fact that his web-shooters were definitely his thing, and that he had done such a decent job with them that even Tony Stark himself didn't change many things about them when the matter was in the billionaire's own hands.

This all probably explained how Peter Parker was able to whip out 19 different prototypes and alterations by the time Tony had called him (while he was in the middle of web-shooter #20).

It was 8 PM. Peter choked on his own spit when he found out.

" _Hey, Pete,_ " came the familiar greeting once Peter had hit the accept-call button. Tony sounded like his normal, chipper over-the-phone self, and Peter picked up on Morgan asking Pepper for a juice pop in the background. The picture of the scene in his head brought a smile to Peter's face as he moved a hologram to the side.

"Hi, Tony. What's up?"

" _Nothing too exciting,_ " the other line said. " _Pep cooked some mind-blowing lamb for dinner tonight. You should've tasted it._ "

 _Dinner_. Peter hadn't fucking eaten dinner yet. Or lunch.

He'd had some water, if it counted.

"I bet it was great, she's a great cook. I definitely miss her food," Peter said. His stomach grumbled as he thought about getting something to eat. He could always order in a pizza or go out and get Thai.

" _You know, it's never too late if you decide you wanna come and visit more often. We all miss your overabundance of pop-culture knowledge, surprisingly enough. I'm afraid Morgan might start jumping off the walls soon if she doesn't have someone to debate with._ "

"Tony," Peter rolled his eyes, "I've only been living here for a day and you're already having to talk me into padding your attachment issues."

Before Tony got the chance to respond, Peter heard Tony wheeze softly as someone climbed on him and a voice was suddenly close to his phone. " _Daddy, who're ya talkin' to?_ "

" _Nobody of your concern,_ " Tony replied.

Peter could already see Morgan's exaggerated facial expression, definitely done with her father's shit. " _You're lyinggg,_ " she groaned. " _You're talking to Peter! Can I talk to him? Please?_ " she begged.

 _"The majesty herself has requested to speak with you,_ " Tony hummed, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Put her on," Peter grinned. He kicked his legs up onto his workspace, flinching when a few parts hit the floor with a clash. Morgan's voice was happy and excited and of course, on the highest volume setting a little girl could manage.

" _Peter!_ " she yelled, and the boy winced as his ears practically exploded. He could hear Tony shush her and remind her to keep her voice down.

"Hey, Morgan! How are you?” Peter asked.

“ _I’m good! Sorry for hurting your ears,_ ” she whispered. Peter chuckled. Her voice was really quiet now.

“It’s okay, you were just excited. What’d you get up to today?”

“ _Well,_ ” the little one started. “ _I put on a fashion show with my American Girl dolls today. Felicity won. But don’t worry, Adele got second place!_ ”

Peter smiled. Morgan has adopted a sudden affinity for American Girl dolls within the past months, and he almost shit himself when Pepper told him how expensive they were, but it didn’t stop Morgan having 7 by the age of five when the recommended age was 8-13. Peter would occasionally do their hair for Morgan, and he told her with confidence that his favorite doll was a long curly haired one she’d named Adele. She talked about them nonstop, and Peter wondered how that little brain of hers could hold all that information about an expansive collection of dolls. Oh well, she was a Stark after all.

“That sounds fun,” he told her.

“ _It was really fun!_ ” There was a pause and a shift. “ _Okay, well Mommy gave me a juice pop so I have to give Daddy his phone back! Bye, Peter! Love you!_ ”

“Love you too, Morgs!” Peter called softly, spinning around in his chair. The phone went back to Tony, who sighed.

“ _She’s been a little antsy, sorry,_ ” Tony said. “ _She burst my eardrum so I can't imagine what you feel like._ ”

“It’s fine, she’s just a kid,” Peter reasoned.

“ _Anyways, what’d you get up to today? If you tell me all you’ve done is sit in bed and scroll through Twitter or something I swear—_ “

Peter eyed the Twitter feed to his left, laughing awkwardly. “No,” he trailed off. “None of that. I’m uh, I’m actually in the lab right now.”

Tony’s voice sounded relieved and disappointed at the same time if that was even possible. Peter closed his eyes, biting his lip. “ _Could’ve guessed. How long’ve you been in there?_ ”

“Not long,” the boy lied with a small voice.

“ _You sure about that, Pete?_ ”

Peter sighed. He knew not to try and convince Tony about this kind of stuff, Tony experienced this first-hand years ago, of course he’d know what it’d be like. The urge to protect everyone, the fear of your past, and being better, and stopping big bad guys. Peter so badly wanted to vent to Tony about it. But he wouldn’t be able to, because Tony would just say the same thing everyone else does. _The world doesn’t rest on your shoulders._

But, now, it kind of did. And even if it didn’t in the first place, then why the _hell_ was Peter so worried about this?

“ _I’m losing you, kid, you still there?_ ” There was a soft edge in the man’s voice that Peter appreciated, but it was tinged with worry that the brunet knew would be coming.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, Tony. Still here, sorry. I’m actually working on something right now, just a little distracted.”

Tony seemed to buy it. “ _I understand. Whatcha workin’ on?_ ”

“Web-shooters,” Peter responded. He set the phone down, putting it on speaker so he could amplify one of the holograms he’d pulled to the side. “I’m thinking maybe, I could make a micro-housing unit to implant on my wrists instead of having a separate bigger one on there that I have to put on. That way I can have them on me all the time, y'know? Think like the things you did for the Mark 42 mixed with your housing unit.”

“ _Sounds cool, we’ll have to look into it. But, you also sound extremely paranoid. Can’t say I don’t blame you though, even if it does sound a little extra. I’ll come by at the end of the week and we can look it over,” Tony replied. “Oh, and speaking of Mark 42, Keener’s supposed to be in at the end of the week as well._ ”

Peter paused what he was doing. “Keener as in Harley Keener? The kid from Tennessee?”

“ _Yeah, him. He’s actually coming to stay. At the compound. For like, a few years._ ”

Peter rolled his eyes, stifling a chuckle. Tony’s inability to actually tell anyone when something was happening soon was not surprising him at all. Another part of him was intrigued. He'd already heard plenty of stories about the kid and Tony's time together in 2013, and he knew Tony kept in touch with him via email. But he had never visited, and Peter had never met him. Though, he did end up following Harley on Instagram. Fro what Peter remembered, he was still a genius, with a handsome face and what Peter presumed to be his little sister. Her name was Abby, if he remembered correctly.

“Oh, that’s cool. I’ll finally get to meet him,” said Peter, trying to figure out where the hell to put his 20 (technically 40) new web-shooters. He was pretty sure there was some space in the Spider-Man vault. He’d ask FRIDAY.

“ _You’ve never met? I swear to God the both of you have at least been in the same room,_ ” Tony sighed. “ _Maybe that was just a dream._ ”

“Yeah, you dreamt that, Mr. Stark. I think Harley and I follow each other on Instagram and that’s about it as far as interactions go.”

Tony didn’t sound amused. “ _Yeah, well, the both of you are meeting later then. And technically living together. Maybe you can make some friends besides the only other two you have. Branch out. Socially._ ”

“Tony,” Peter whined. “You’re making me sound like a loser.”

“ _We’re all losers, kid._ ”

“Uh huh,” Peter yawned, closing out of his diagrams and mechanism sims. He was about to call it a night, and probably go find an excuse so May wouldn’t think he was going crazy hiking himself up like this.

“ _Alright, kiddo. You sound tired, you should get outta that lab and head to bed. Think I’ll do the same._ ”

Tony sounded like he was stretching. Peter didn’t blame him. “Alright, well, goodnight, Tony,”

“ _Night, Peter. Sleep well. Call me if you need anything._ ”

Peter hummed, and the line went dead. Getting dreary-eyed, Peter set his arms on the desk in front of him and scanned his surroundings. “FRIDAY?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Parker?”

“There some empty space in the Spidey vault for about 20 web-shooter prototypes?”

“Yes, you’ll be able to fit them in easily. Boss has made plenty of spaces for plenty of future designs to be stored.” A tube popped up near the corner of the room with a little spider emblem on it. “I can send them down in boxes if you’d like?”

“Sounds great, thanks, FRI.”

“Of course. It’s also recommended that you sleep soon, and spend some time outdoors tomorrow. You’ve been working longer than Boss deems necessary.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Peter responded, placing the shooters in small-ish boxes two by two, sending them down a weird tube he didn’t exactly know existed. It was honestly tiring.

Next time, he wasn’t going to make as many.

 


	3. The Sky Is Falling, So Pull Up A Chair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm bringing this back from the dead. thank the quarantine.  
> chapter title from dirty air by two door cinema club

Everything is a coal-black fog that Peter feels like he could choke on. Somehow, he’s standing, and there’s a figure in the distance collapsed on the ground. Peter panics. The voice is so faint, Peter can barely register who it is, and when he realizes who the shadowed man is, a pit drops in his stomach that makes him dizzy and nauseous.

“Peter, _help me!_ ”

Peter tried shooting out a web. It gets jammed and doesn’t go anywhere. The man is being held at gunpoint. 

He cannot do a single thing, trying another multitude of times to get the shooter to work. It fails, for some reason. Peter starts crying.

“Peter, _please_ , I’m going to _die!_ ”

Peter takes one look at Uncle Ben through a choked sob and wishes he could die instead, falling back into an abyss of screaming and sobbing and one of Aunt May’s gentle reminders that it was never his fault.

 

Peter wakes up hearing dishes clattering, noise that’s coming from the kitchen. He can hear Sam and Natasha laughing together, he can register the sun seeping in slowly through the windows that Tony had tinted special for Peter. Just enough so that he could wake and not be blinded on off-days. FRIDAY tells him the time and date in a chirping tone. It’s Thursday, 8:36 AM. He’s shaking, breathing rapidly, closing his eyes and trying to block out the laughter that was amplifying itself in his ears. He drained it out with his heartbeat, laying in bed until it was beating normally.

The brunet tapped his toothbrush against the sink to shake any extra water off before rinsing and putting it back in its little holder that retracted back into the wall. He looked at himself slowly. He looked oddly tired. There were no awful deep eye bags, nothing that would’ve been caused by staying up until 4 AM, just a pair of distant and uncharacteristic eyes and some pimples finding their way out. Stress acne.

May knocked right after Peter put a plain t-shirt on, standing by his bed.

“Peter?” she asked, peeking her head in. “You’re awake,” she said. “Just coming in to tell you I’m off to work. Not sure exactly when I’ll be back, but it should be before five.”

“Sounds good,” Peter gave her a tight smile.

“Alright. And try not to spend your entire time in the lab today after your breakfast with Michelle. Why don’t you go out and patrol or go uh… train with those guys or whatever you Avengers do.” Her tone was kind but Peter paled instantly and nodded. Guess telling Aunt May that he “explored” the compound yesterday night didn’t work on her. He hoped she wasn’t too concerned, but it would come and bite him in the ass eventually.

“R-Right, that sounds like a great idea,” Peter replied quickly. “Have a good day, Aunt May!”

“You too! Text me updates so I know you’re keeping yourself occupied with other things! Happy will be here in a little under 15 minutes, just got a text from him!”

Peter gave her a thumbs up, wondering partly why May was texting Happy. “You got it. Love you!”

She closed the door as she left with a sweet smile. “Love you too!”

Peter sighed, a billion thoughts blazing through his head and speaking as he sat down on the foot of his bed to cuff his jeans. His hands were sore. It was becoming increasingly annoying, but he tried to shake it off. He wished they would wear off soon enough, his stupid spider healing didn't kick in for a couple more hours. That shit sucked.

First world superhero problems, right?

The noise subsided in the kitchen as Sam and Natasha left, leaving Peter alone to grab a banana and yogurt for breakfast even though he was scheduled to get brunch with MJ. Ned would come along too, but his cousins were over this week, leaving his schedule booked and Peter and MJ alone in their hang out sessions. Peter didn't mind, he loved Ned and spending time with him obviously, but being alone with MJ was rare and also entertaining. He was also excited to spend more time in the city. Peter loved the compound, of course, but Queens and NYC, in general, were his home. He wouldn't trade it for the world. The compound was so secluded but too high-tech to be this secluded. He had only spent a little bit of time with his friends recently, mainly only hanging out when school was still going on and they were all finishing the semester, but Peter may have accidentally isolated himself from everyone when his stupid paranoia started setting in. It was so unbearable.

He greeted Happy with a quiet smile and a wave. Happy seemed like his usual self, maybe a little nicer today because he actually took time to ask how Peter was and if he missed his friends and all, which in turn made Peter happy too, a nice change in mood. He dropped Peter off outside of the restaurant he and MJ were meeting at, the girl waiting outside and waving at the car. Peter told Happy bye as he got out.

"Even after all this apocalypse stuff, Iron Man still has you riding in fancy cars, huh?" MJ asked in her usual smug fashion. Peter rolled his eyes, failing to contain his smile. "Just teasing," she continued, with a nudge at his arm. "I miss seeing you all the time, Peter.'

Peter nodded. "I miss you too, MJ. I really do." He opened the door to the joint and held it open for her.

"Thanks," said MJ. "So what's been keeping you all occupied for so long? I feel like I've been talking to a brick wall ever since school ended."

Peter shrugged. "Stuff, y'know." He looked at the empty tables and the lack of a hostess. "Hey, I think we seat ourselves."

MJ nodded slowly, keeping her chin up knowingly. "Ah, the all-elusive 'stuff' answer."

"Yeah," Peter laughed timidly. 

"I got you, Peter. We can talk about it later. In private." God, Peter loved MJ. A part of him knew that he would still have that crush he did a few months ago if she wasn't gay. She was so considerate and gave you comfort in the strangest ways. She was mysterious but in the way that you still felt like you've known her for years once you befriend her. She was of course, very pretty too, and Peter could appreciate that. He was grateful she wasn't ever upset with him no matter how isolated he got, but the brunet also knew that she had similar habits. He never had to worry about her being (too) upset with him.

"Cool. So, uh, what's been happening with you?"

MJ bit her lip, humming, "I've had a lot of time on my hands to dissect plenty of political literature. You'd be surprised at how many people agree that post-apocalyptic society shreds everything we know about normal government functioning and allows it to be stretched like Silly Puddy."

Peter laughed.

 

The brunch was refreshing. Peter enjoyed it, of course, but the event he found more impactful during their time together was sitting in MJ's room discussing his paranoia. After a disclaimer that she was by no regard certified to amend his superhero-induced trauma, MJ let Peter vent for at least an hour, saying she found it interesting and also endearing that Peter would let her into a very fragile portion of his life. She had only known he was Spider-Man for a few months, claiming she had known all along. It explained her observational behavior towards Peter.

"Do you think maybe it might be because you're surrounded by glorified adults?" MJ asked. 'Like, you're Spider-Man, yeah, but you're also just now turning eighteen in a few months. All of these other Avengers are adults who have fully developed brains and shit. When kids spend time deprived of interaction with people their own age, they come up with this perception that they have to be like said people."

"I mean," Peter started, "yeah. It's just that, I have abilities these people don't have. I have to be using it correctly, but I have a fear I'll just...fall short."

"Aren't the Avengers a team?"

"Yeah, but Iron Man and Captain America were the leaders. Now Mr. Rogers literally like, gave his shield to Mr. Wilson, the Falcon. He's clearly the next Cap. And Mr. Stark, Tony, I mean...he...he left the superhero stuff to me. I have to fill his shoes."

"You aren't Iron Man though. You're Spider-Man. You do your superhero stuff the way Spider-Man does it, not how Tony Stark does it. You don't have to be the leader. Somebody else can fill that role if you aren't comfortable. Maybe somebody else will take it up."

"I don't know...I just have a feeling..." Peter sighed, rubbing at his tired face.

"Well, if nobody else can do it, I believe in you," MJ gave him a reassuring smile. Peter smiled back. "Are you sure there's no other like...teenagers you can mess shit up and be stupid and immature with in the fancy superhero mansion?"

"Nope." Peter thought for a second about that Harley Keener kid flying in later, but that thought made him scared. He didn't have time for new friends. He had too much on his plate. He didn't even know this kid, just that he knew Tony and Tony knew him and that was it.

"Damn. Let me know if you need any company."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Michelle Jones? In Tony Stark's compound? Thought you said you don't like fancy superhero mansions."

"I don't, nerd. You just need company...and I'm your friend."

"Thanks, MJ." Peter's tone was genuine. A glint was in MJ's eyes, a familiar glint that Peter loved.

"...As long as you give me the Wakandan princess's contact no so I can discuss economics and lore with her...respectfully..."

Peter chuckled. "We'll see."

 

MJ was right. Peter did feel out of place.

And honestly, it only made him feel that much worse about his life currently. He wished people would call him by his name, and not just "kid" or as Sam had newly started calling him, "pipsqueak". Peter was almost eighteen.  He understood that you don't really look at someone a being an adult until they're in their twenties, but still. The only person that Peter thought had the right to call him "kid" was Tony, and maybe Natasha just because Peter really liked Natasha and she respected him. May had to take an extra shift tonight, so that left Peter eating dinner with a few Avengers. He found himself frustrated as he grabbed his first serving at dinner and sat at the large table, sitting through everyone ignoring his existence or awkwardly making jokes around him (or about him). Sure, he wasn't the most mature person in the world, but this shit got annoying. Peter wished he could come off as intimidating, or maybe just wasn't so nice sometimes.

"Seconds?" Sam asked as Peter got up from his seat and refilled his plate.

Peter looked at him, cheeks heating up as he smiled. "Yeah...um...I have a crazy metabolism. It's pretty bad."

Nat piped in. "It's his spider DNA. And once I refine his skills, he'll be able to knock your sorry ass out in seconds," she smirked.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

Peter sat back down, partly thanking Nat silently but also cursing her because _Jesus_ , now Sam was gonna tease him for the rest of eternity like his name was Bucky Barnes or something. "Maybe one day."

"You know, I honestly don't doubt that," Sam said. "You've grown since that weird airport thing. As long as you don't talk as much."

"That's wishful thinking," Peter mumbled.

Natasha smiled.

 

After telling May goodnight, and spending more time in a lab testing out a few of his web-shooters, Peter laid in bed exhausted, in the dark, worry flooding his mind like a dam had broken loose. Maybe he wasn't so sure of his hero abilities because he was just immature. What if, even if he tried his hardest, people would reject him as the "new Iron Man"? And why did that worry him? Did he secretly want to be the next big face of the Avengers? Peter knew that younger-him did, but now? When he had so many people that could be put in danger and he knew his limitations? One of two things was going on: Peter either did not want to "step up" at all, or he actually really did, but is being a complete sissy about it because it's terrifying and may ruin his life. He just needed to figure out what exactly was plaguing him so he could fix it. And hopefully, he could keep his aunt and Tony and Ned and MJ out of it so they didn't get worried. Because Peter could see himself becoming a burden very quickly.

He was getting so tired of this inner debate. He attempted to wipe his brain clean, falling asleep somewhat peacefully by some miracle of God.

Titan flooded his dreams.

This was an inescapable matter.


	4. Come Back Down To My Knees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from life itself by glass animals

“ _So anyway, I’ll be down at the compound for a few days starting tomorrow when Keener flies in…_ ” Tony stops himself. _“Peter? Did I lose you?”_

Peter is eating a doughnut on the roof of some corporate building in Manhattan. The skyline was electrifying, beautiful to look at. He needs to come to Manhattan more often. He swallows his food. “Yeah, I’m eating a doughnut, sorry.”

_ “Where are you?” _

“On a rooftop in Manhattan.”

Peter had decided to take the day today to test out his new shooters among the tall cityscape of Manhattan, as one of his ways to try and ease his anxiety. It felt good to swing around without a worry, the tall buildings giving him a blank canvas to test out some new moves in the sky.

Tony chuckles over the phone. _“I ate a doughnut on a roof once. Well, I was on a sign. Whatever. Still counts. Hey, if you happen to see Nick Fury, get the hell outta dodge. I failed to do that last time.”_

Peter rolls his eyes, humming, “What if he needs me?”

_ “Pray for God’s mercy. Alright. I’m gonna let you go. Don’t forget—I see you tomorrow. Clear your schedule, we have things to do. Oh, and Keener. Meet him too.” _

Peter balls up the wrapper that the doughnut came in, looking at his surroundings, just to see. “You got it.”

_ “See you, kid. End call.” _

Peter stands up. New York is below him, in all of its glamorized fashion. He checks his altitude with Karen, then takes a step off the building and flies. He yells, freely, swinging back up without a care in the world. He says hi to the people below him, stops momentarily and perches himself on a post. A cluster of teenage girls stood below him, yelling his name to get his attention.

“Spidey! Can we take a picture?” one girl, with black hair and bangs, asks enthusiastically. She’s smiling, and Peter smiles back from inside his mask.

“Of course!” he says. He hops down gracefully and poses in between the three with a peace sign. The tallest girl holds her phone out for the selfie and the black-haired girl makes a kissy face at Spider-Man’s cheek. Peter blushes. They take a few. “Sweet!” says Peter once they’re finished.

“Thank you so much,” they all gush, giggling. It gives Peter butterflies. “We think you’re the coolest!”

“Aw, thanks, ladies. What are you guys’ names?” From the few years he’s been at the Spider-Man gig, Peter has found that he likes talking to people. He likes being more of an everyman superhero, he wants people to know he’s really just like them. No super-spy or billionaire. Just friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. They each tell him their names: Anna, Olivia, and Juliana. “Nice to meet you all!” he exclaims. Peter compliments Juliana’s makeup before he zips himself back up into the air. They wave at him as he leaves.

  
  


The rest of the day is almost relaxing for Peter. He saves someone’s cat from a tree, helps an old lady flag down a taxi, takes someone’s group photo near a fountain and picks up a little girl’s dropped stuffed animal. Light work today, but Peter wouldn’t give it up for the world. It was a needed break. This is why Peter pushed the Avenger proposal off the first time. The flying doughnut, of course, ruined that for him. But that experience was needed for Peter. A reality check of sorts, that he would have to really step up at some point. Besides that though, Peter had grown to love his job. Especially days like these, where he helped out with mindless, wholesome tasks. He still loved the adrenaline rush he got from stopping crime and catching baddies, but that didn't usually happen until around nighttime and outside of the thick of the city. Peter enjoyed spending his day in the suit and being able to spend it away from guns. Of course, there were always a few exceptions, but it was nice while he had it.

Unfortunately, Peter could not swing through the streets forever, He found himself back at the tower, greeting May who was engrossed in a murder mystery novel in her room. It wasn't quite time for dinner yet, so Peter sat down on the sofa and read through his Decathalon group chat that had been flooded by (some pretty terrible) memes. His Twitter notifications were going crazy again. A certain article caught his attention, a negative one about Spidey from the Daily Bugle. Peter knew that paper was a bunch of bullshit, but he still scoffed and let out a distressed sigh.

> " _Spider-Man is in no way “awesome,” but rather a dangerous menace that has plagued New York City for over seven years. Though he was assumed lost in the Blip - a relief to New Yorkers of all stripes - Spider-Man has since returned, bringing with him a wave of destruction and crime that can only be described as “anything but super.”"_

Peter closed his phone. Natasha walked into the room behind him.

"Hey, kid, you look stressed. What's up?"

"Oh! Hey!” Peter whipped his head around quickly. “It’s nothing, promise,” he smiled.

Nat didn’t look impressed, raising her eyebrows and humming. “You know, you don’t have to smile around me if you don’t feel like it? Or...anyone for that matter.”

“Seriously, Nat, I’m fine—“ Peter tried, but he was cut off. Was Peter being a burden by keeping a chipper mood? Usually only Tony got mad when he was faking it. He sure didn’t hope he was a burden.

“Sure you are,” the woman said. “We’re getting pizza for dinner tonight, but that won’t be for a few hours. You wanna come down to the training room with me? Helps alleviate stress, trust me.”

“Really? Okay,” Peter genuinely smiled this time, the thought of working with Natasha exciting him. He hadn’t really gotten to know Nat that well until right before everything with Thanos, and it was nice of her to invite him to train when he was only a few days into living at the compound. Although, it wasn’t exactly surprising—she was known for her parental nature around kids. In a few weeks, she would be out looking after Clint’s kids to help out with his wife since…everything. Peter shivered a little bit, He needed to stop thinking about that.

“C’mon kid, Get up, let’s go.” Peter followed her out and to the elevator.

The training room was just as big as Peter remembered from his limited visits, large, spacious and full of stuff to keep him going. He changed into some appropriate clothing in the locker room and met Natasha outside, who had compiled a few things on one of the main large mats for them to work through.

She picked up a large foam block and held it in front of her chest. It was definitely weighted. “Hit me, kid,” she told him.

Hesitant, Peter let out a breath and pulled one of his punches. Again, Natasha was not impressed.

“Peter, I’ve worked with Steve before. Don’t be shy, you won’t kill me.”

Peter took another breath and tried again. He knocked Natasha off of her feet. “Oh my gosh, you okay? I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ He pulled the woman up, who had a big, large grin on her face.

“Atta boy,” she said. She didn’t seem too phased by whatever impact she had. After a few more nabs at it, they moved on to punching bags. Peter broke three, by accident, of course, sending the bags’ contents everywhere. Natasha told him not to worry at all, that it was a common occurrence with Steve, and that they would clean it up later.

Next was the mock combat, which Peter had done before with Nat a long time ago, so he had to admit he was a little rusty and of course, Nat beat him out on it. It didn’t matter though, Peter was very happy to receive tips. Natasha gave him pointers on leg and arm placement, how to rotate his hips in time to his steps or swings and another jab at his attempts to talk mid “combat”.

“Talking is kinda like my branding though,” Peter countered, taking a swing at Nat’s cheek that she deflected.

“Then just keep it short in dire situations, sound good?” she asked. Peter dodged a hit. This was also another way for him to test the accuracy of his spidey sense, which, seemed to be working fine as usual.

“Yeah, that’s cool,” Peter replied.

Thirty minutes had past and Peter was maybe halfway close to being completely worn out. Sweat started to bead at his forehead, but it was nothing terrible. He held a towel over his shoulder as Natasha met him outside the locker room.

“Nice work, kid. I wanna crack the code on your abilities, try and work you hard and see everything you can do. You look reserved. Next time, we can spar or something. And I won’t hold back.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder. “But you won’t have to worry about that. I’m gonna head back up, see when Sam is actually ordering our food. Feel free to use anything in here if you want, or just do whatever. Call your dad maybe, God knows he needs people other than Pepper and a four-year-old to get him out of his head.”

“For the last time, he’s not my—“

“Yeah, that’s what they all say. I’ll let you know when pizza’s here.” She left the training room.

Peter, flushed and embarrassed, stood there for a split second, wondering what to do. There was a corner of the room that held equipment: some spare widow bites, a Captain-esque shield and some other stuff like false guns and even some blades. There was a mini door beside it, and Peter walked curiously over.

“Hey, FRIDAY…”

“Yes, Peter?”

“What does this little door thing do?”

“That is a chute to transport any equipment from the main storage vaults into the Training Facility. Would you like me to send something from the Spider-Man vault?”

“Sure,” Peter shrugged.

“What would you like me to send you?”

“How about a web-shooter prototype? Gimme something new.”

“Okay. It’s on its way.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“Of course, Mr. Parker.”

A few moments later, a little click sounded at the door. Peter pulled the handle to the door so that it opened, and in a small tube was a pair of prototype shooters Peter had designed a few days earlier. They were one of the more impractical ones in his eyes, white shooters that glowed in the dark. However, it did have different buttons on it that could change the ejection of the fluid to vary strength and tenacity of the web, so he would have the try that out. There was a shelf with a few vials of fluid in them, so Peter loaded the web-shooters and went over to a wall that Tony had deemed the “Peter Wall”. At the Peter Wall, the boy could test any new shooters or fluids he designed, and not have to worry about cleaning them up later (unless he wanted to). Another neat thing was that you could slide different material panels out to test the chemical makeup of any new fluids. If something was causing a bad reaction between the surface and the fluid, Peter would know and could go back and make adjustments to the chemical makeup. 

That gave Peter another smart idea. New web fluids were to be made. He stored it in the back of his brain.

After successful testing of his prototype, glow in the dark web-shooter, Peter continued fooling around with some other variants, having fun hearing the sounds that the chute made as things were returned and then brought down. It was a satisfying sound. He clocked out for the day, making sure that everything (minus the punching bags) was cleaned up and back in proper place before heading back up for pizza once FRIDAY alerted him it was here. His stomach growled, and he got excited at the thought of some nice, warm, greasy cheese pizza.

 

Peter was surprised to see May at the table sitting next to Natasha and Sam, who had already taken some pizza from the box. The pizza was from a really good place just south of the compound. Peter had fond memories of ordering some while working with Tony in the labs, which only made him more excited about eating it. He would have to tell Tony that the crew ate from their favorite joint tonight. Peter started himself out with two slices, sitting in his normal seat across from Sam.

“Haven’t seen you all day today, pipsqueak,” Sam said. May giggled at the nickname.

“Been busy,” Peter replied. “Did some Spider-Man stuff today.”

“Yeah, saw that you saved a kitty cat from a tree today and took some pictures with fans. Sounds like a rough day, huh?”

“Hey, in his defense, Pete knocked me down in some punching exercises today,” Nat said, once again saving Peter from Sam embarrassing him further.

“Damn, kid. She’s a statue with me. That’s kinda freaky.” Sam raised his eyebrows.

“He _is_ part spider,” May added.

Peter smiled a very satisfied smile, proud of himself.

Nat changed the subject. “So, did Tony inform you all of the new teenage boy that’s coming to visit us all here tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Stark needs to stop pulling kids out of his ass. Starting to feel like I’m babysitting.”

“Hey!” Peter said. “I keep to myself.”

Sam nodded his head sideways. “I’ll give you that one.”

Natasha chuckled. “Yeah, and his little visit is lasting for “a couple of years”. And Tony just told me this, like, at the beginning of the week.”

“I’m not surprised, he never tells me jack shit, but Jesus, did Stark seriously adopt another kid? Why’s he staying so damn long, he might as well live here till he goes to college.”

“Well,” Natasha said, taking a bite of her pizza and swallowing, “Kid’s Peter’s age, or so Stark said, so he’ll be going off to college after he finishes up this upcoming year of school. Just like you, right, kiddo?” She looked at Peter, who was stuffing his face full of food. He nodded.

“Do we know anything about him?” May piped up.

“His name is Harley Keener, he’s coming from Tennessee. He and Tony had a run-in after New York in 2013. Tony says he saved his life during the whole Mandarin thing. Poor kid got dusted, but since he and Tony email I guess Tony just said fuck it and decided to bring the kid over here. Said his mom was acting weird, mean, and he needed a distraction from life for a long, long time.”

“Do you know him, Peter?” May asked. “You two should become friends.”

Peter shrugged, standing up to get seconds. “We follow each other on Instagram. Seems like a nice guy. Mr. Stark—Tony—said that he wanted to take him in for an internship one day like me or something. He told me a little bit about the Mandarin stuff, but I don’t know him. And I don’t know if I want to be friends. He might hate me or something.”

“You’re like, not hatable though, kid,” Sam said, which surprised Peter a little bit and made him warm up inside. “You’re Spider-Man. Kinda hard to hate.”

“You never know,” Peter said, sitting back down. The pizza was still warm and delicious.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” May reassured him.

After dinner, Peter decided he needed sleep. May was at the end of his hall, braiding her hair with the door open. Her room was warmly lit and well furnished, the doings of Pepper, and she looked calm. She noticed Peter in the doorway.

“No patrol tonight?” she asked.

“Nah, I’m just gonna go to bed. Tony said I have stuff to do tomorrow.”

May hummed. “Well, I’m happy to see you sleeping at a normal hour. I was starting to think you were going to become nocturnal. Are spiders nocturnal?”

Peter let out a quiet, sweet laugh. “Most of them are. Not me, though.”

“Good,” May smiled.

Peter stood there for a second, knowing he had something else to say, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. That is, until his eyes found the photograph of Uncle Ben on her vanity, and he stiffened up. “Uh...May?”

“Yeah, Peter?”

Peter scratched at his arms. “So I’ve been having weird dreams lately.”

“Oh? What kind of weird dreams?” May stopped braiding her hair and turned so her whole body was facing Peter, insinuating full attention.

“Well, it’s hard to explain, but Ben is there, and I’m like, trapped…? And he says he’ll rescue me but he never does and all a sudden it’s just a repeat of him…you know…” Peter went dead silent. They haven’t talked about this since right after everyone came back.

May stood up, sadness and sympathy clear in her eyes as she embraced Peter, who had a hard expression on his face that tears were threatening to break. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I miss him too.” She smoothed his hair with her fingers.

“I just...sometimes I feel so helpless, May. I can’t do anything sometimes,” Peter said in a small voice.

“Well,” she pulled back. “I hope that you know that you are the absolute strongest person I know. Stronger than anyone in our lives, anyone in this compound. You have so much love and passion and power in you, and I can tell you for certain that you are not helpless. You help people every day, Peter, it’s amazing. I wish I was half the person you are.”

Peter smiled, and that actually made him really feel like crying now. “Thanks, May. I love you.”

May hugged him again. “I love you too, Peter. And hey, if you ever feel afraid to go to sleep or want some company before bed to help you feel better, let me know and we can go hang out on a couch somewhere with a big TV and watch a movie or something. We can watch Star Wars or maybe one of those African wildlife documentaries you like. How does that sound?”

Peter grinned. “That sounds great. Thanks, May.”

“Of course, kiddo.”

Peter yawned. “I’m gonna go to bed now.”

“Alright. Goodnight, Peter, I love you so, so much.” May kissed the top of his head, giving him another tight squeeze before letting him go. “Get a good night's sleep, alright? Let me know if you need anything.”

Peter started backing away. “Okay. Sweet dreams, May!”

“You too!” May smiled and closed the door.

Peter headed back to his room, and once he had stripped himself of his clothes and slipped on some pajamas and brushed his teeth, the boy collapsed onto his bed, passing out into a deep slumber.

No dreams.

 


	5. In Weakness Or In Strength, Change Can Be Amazing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since bringing this fic back from the dead I've gained a lot more support than expected! thank you all for your lovely comments and feedback, I really appreciate it! enjoy this chapter, its a few thousand words longer than average :-)  
> chapter title from honest by the neighbourhood

Peter was in a good mood today. After a good night’s rest, he woke up fine and without any worry, really. He knew he had things to do today and he knew that Tony was stopping by, so he was anticipating seeing him and having him over for maybe another day. May had left early this morning for her shift, leaving Peter alone in one of the living rooms, curled up on the sofa texting Ned and MJ

 

**_Ned_ **

_Bro my fam is about to drive me absolutely crazy_

**_MJ_ **

_you have a family? lmao can't relate_

**_Ned_ **

_MJ I saw your mom at the farmers market yesterday lol_

**_MJ_ **

_very funny_

**_Peter_**

_I like your mom MJ she’s very nice and very unlike you_

**_MJ_ **

_she’s… too nice_

**_Peter_**

_Weirdo_

**_MJ_ **

_hey quit that’s my line_

**_Ned_ **

_So what’s everyone up to today?_

**_MJ_ **

_trying to figure out who the zodiac is_

**_Peter_**

_Mr. Stark is coming in today_

**_Ned_ **

_OMG Tell him I said hey!! Can I come over?_

**_Peter_**

_I don’t think so… he’s bringing a boy with him that’s gonna be staying for a little and I don’t want to overwhelm him with any extra company_

**_MJ_ **

_peter you’re going to need to elaborate on this_

**_Ned_ **

_A boy...👀_

**_Peter_ **

_Just this kid he met a long time ago. He’s our age apparently._

_Idk I’m kinda scared like what if he hates me or something or what if he’s jealous_

_Should he know that I’m Spider-Man?_

**_MJ_ **

_is he cute_

**_Peter_**

_Be quiet MJ lol_

_I mean we follow each other on Instagram_

**_MJ_ **

_but is he cute_

**_Peter_**

_I don’t know??? Maybe??_

_It doesn’t matter. He’s coming from Tennessee he might be homophobic lol_

**_MJ_ **

_damn_

**_Ned_ **

_Oof_

**_Peter_**

_Anyways I’m nervous to meet him_

_Like what if he hates me_

_What do I do_

_I think Mr. Stark really likes him and idk how he would react if we hated each other_

**_Ned_ **

_It’ll be fine Peter!!!_

_Just be urself!_

_Chances are he’s a little bit of a nerd too since Tony Stark likes him!_

**_MJ_ **

_ned is right_

_just chill out i’m sure everything will be fine_

_let us know if we need to do something though_

_i’ll beat this kids ass if you need me to_

**_Peter_ **

_Thanks MJ lmao_

**_Ned_ **

_Ugh hold on guys one of my baby cousins is trying to play with my Legos_

**_MJ_ **

_loser_

 

Right as MJ texted that, Peter got another text notification from Tony.

 

**_Tony_ **

_E.T.A. like 5 mins_

_Please do not greet me and Harley in your pajamas. Please_

**_Peter_**

_Dw_

_I’m dressed_

**_Tony_ **

_Lovely_

_See you soon_

**_Peter_**

_Ok_

**_Tony_ **

_What does “DW” mean?_

**_Peter_**

_It means don’t worry lmao_

**_Tony_ **

_Yeah that’s what Harley said._

_You kids have strange texting lingo_

 

The more Harley was thought about in Peter’s mind, the more nervous he got. Peter didn’t like meeting new people, much less people that Tony ominously knew.

Peter didn’t even know much at all about this kid. He tries to remember all that Tony told him. He knows Harley helped with Mark 42, lived in Tennessee and helped save Tony when the Mandarin attacks were happening after Tony “died”. Peter still remembers the heartache he got after watching the news as a little kid. Must’ve been nice to be Harley and have Tony Stark come into your life and know he wasn’t dead. Harley probably wasn’t as big of an Iron Man fanboy as Peter, though.

 

**_Peter_**

_Wait till you learn about key smashing_

**_Tony_ **

_Wtf is that_

_Kid, you’re weird. Even Harley doesn’t know what you mean_

**_Peter_**

_Lol_

 

Peter shut off his phone, getting up off the couch. He looked behind him and re-situated the pillow he squished while sitting down, making sure the folded blanket was still folded correctly. He looked down at his feet, looking at his grey socks. Should he be wearing shoes? Is it informal to greet strangers in socks? Peter ran to his room and slipped on his pair of black Vans before running back to the living room. He would just wait here till—

“Boss is on his way up with Mr. Keener and Mr. Hogan, Mr. Parker.”

Peter sighed, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair before making his way to the foyer where the elevator was located. They arrived before he did.

“Oh good, Peter. You’re here already.” Peter turned to Tony’s voice and smiled.

Accompanied by Tony was Happy, carrying a few luggage bags and a kid that Peter knew was Harley Keener. He looked to be slightly taller than Peter, with messy, dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He didn’t look very tired. He looked about the same as he did in his Instagram pictures, if not a little bit better. He was staring right back at Peter with an expression that was painfully unreadable. The panic started to set in Peter. He cleared his throat. “Hey, Tony, hey Happy!”

“Hey, kid,” Happy gave him his usual stiff wave.

“Right! Peter, this is Harley, an old friend of mine. Harley, this is Peter Parker. He’s my—“

“—intern,” Peter finished for him. “I’m Tony’s intern.”

Harley’s face split into a grin that Peter wouldn’t consider reassuring. There was something in his eyes. “So,” his voice was deeper than Peter anticipated. “You’re the golden boy I keep hearing about.” The tone of his voice was teasing, but Peter’s face burst into flames. Harley held his hand out for Peter to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.” Oh, he had a little bit of an accent too.

Peter’s mind was stuck on “golden boy”. He didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I-It’s nice to meet you too,” Peter stuttered, a smile at the end of his sentence. Closer to Harley’s face now, the boy’s blue eyes looked kinder once he smiled. He had a sharper face, but there was a softness to it that Peter hoped would stay forever. 

Peter also needed to remember to breathe.

“Tony,” Happy complained, ruining Peter’s trance, “can we get a move on? This crap is heavy.”

Harley stopped looking at Peter to turn around and face Happy instead. “Don’t you go calling my things crap, now. There’s some very important stuff in there. If you don’t want to hold it, hand it over. I can carry it."

Peter raised his eyebrows, a little bit shocked.

“Make Peter carry it, he’s strong!” Happy replied.

Peter blushed again, stepping forward. He should’ve considered that. “I—uh—“

“Now that’s just rude, don’t make him carry it!” Harley replied. A part of Peter may have been a little offended. Harley grabbed at one of his bags and hauled it over his shoulder. Peter would have lied if he said he wasn’t surprised at how strong the blond was. Or if he didn’t take a glimpse of his muscles. He couldn’t help it.

Tony chuckled, amused, “Alright, let’s go, gang. We can drop your bags off in your room so that Forehead over here quits it.” He turned to Peter, who looked very lost. “Parker, come with us in case I forget to tell this little shit anything.” Peter giggled to himself at the use of the nickname. Harley looked back at Peter, and Peter swore he could not read this dude’s face. There was just something in his eyes that made Peter nervous. Peter really, genuinely wished that he could’ve been left alone, or that Tony had left the tour with Harley up to Happy so that Peter could spend some time talking about things, but he understood that one) Happy was not qualified for that and two) that was really selfish of Peter.

Down the hallway Peter recognized as his, Tony said, “Okay, kid,” (referring to Harley, Peter assumed) “your room is right across from Peter’s, here, so that you don’t get too lonely or lost. And his hot aunt is at the end of the hall, if you need a good view, not that you even—“ Tony stopped himself after a second as Harley gave him a face that Peter could finally read that yelled, “Quit!” and then looked over at Peter, who was just glaring at him.

“Tony,” Peter warned him.

“Right, that’s Happy’s job,” Tony said.

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Man, if my mama heard me talkin’ ‘bout a woman like that back home, she’d whip the Devil outta me.” Harley shook his head, opening the door to his room. 

Peter couldn’t get over the little southern twang his voice had, especially when he used certain words. It was amusing, different, and complemented his deep voice. He heard all kinds of accents around New York, as diverse as it was, but never really anything southern. Peter looked at Harley’s expression changes from the side as he stepped into his room. “Dang, Tony! This is so cool! I mean, the whole place is amazing but...dang. He walked further inside, to where Tony and Happy followed him. Tony motioned for Peter to come in too, as Peter had been standing outside awkwardly.

 Peter watched as Harley excitedly splayed himself out on a bed that was the same oversized size as Peter’s. Harley let out a noise of content that Peter feels like he should not have heard. 

“This is so comfy, I ain’t leaving this thing anytime soon.”

Happy looked bored, setting down Keener’s luggage. “Alright, I’m done here. Tony, I’m gonna go wait somewhere else. Bye.”

“Bye, Happy!” Harley called out jokingly sweet. “Miss you already!”

Happy scoffed, looking at Peter. “You’re my new favorite,” he told him. He then looked towards Tony, who was admiring the whole scene. “Tony, if you bring me around another kid that isn’t Morgan, I’m going to lose it.” 

“Don’t worry, Hap, Harley’s the last thing I had up my sleeve.”

Happy left without another word.

“Bye, Happy,” Peter said quietly.

Harley had sat up, looking at the trio that had now turned into a duo. “Alright, what’s next?”

“Well,” Tony started, but was interrupted by his phone buzzing. He took it out and looked at it. “A call from my wife apparently. Pete, go show Keener around. You know this place well enough.”

 _I’ve only been living here for like, a week_ , Peter wanted to tell him, but he didn’t want to be rude. Instead, he nodded, saying, “O-oh! Okay,” with his stupid nervous voice.

“Hey, Pep,” Tony answered as he held his phone to his ear. He left the room, waving at the two boys. Peter waved airily back.

Harley was staring at him when Peter turned back around. Peter froze. He could not tell whether this was a good or bad scare, not that he knew what a good stare would even look like. His heartbeat was racing. Harley had bright eyes. He did not want to be left alone with this kid.

_God, don’t be scared of another person, Peter. You’re Spider-Man._

“So, um, where do you want to start?” Peter tried, breaking the silence. Harley blinked, standing up.

“We can start wherever you feel like starting,” Harley replied.

“Okay,” Peter said. “Come on.”

Harley followed him out of the room, a bounce in his step. 

“So out here,” Peter started, “is one of the living rooms. The living quarters are crazy big, but it’s good because sometimes there’s so many people in here that everyone needs their own space sometimes. This is the living room I spend time in, but like, if you want to see Ms. Romanoff, she’s probably going to be on the other side of the building.”

“ _Black Widow?_ ”

“Y-yeah,” Peter smiled awkwardly.

He watched as Harley composed himself, nodding. “Nice. Who else lives here?” They kept walking.

“Right now it’s just me, Ms. Romanoff, Mr. Wilson, the Falcon, and my aunt. Sometimes Tony comes around, Captain America and his friend have come over for dinner in the past, I haven’t seen them since I’ve been here though, and I’m pretty sure most everyone else is off doing their own thing. I don’t know, I’ve only been living here for a week with my aunt.”

Harley looked at him questioningly.

“Our apartment got taken over by people when everyone disappeared,” Peter explained. He walked ahead a little bit so he could turn around. The least he could do was give a nice presentation. “This is the kitchen. It’s very big, it’s the main kitchen, this is where everyone gets dinner. Sometimes someone cooks, but most of the time we get takeout or something. Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Wilson spend lots of time here.”

Harley’s face lit up. “She’s beautiful,” he said, admiring the space. “A little modern for my taste, but still.”

Peter laughed a little. “It is nice. My aunt is banned from cooking here.”

Harley turned around, pointing at Peter. “It’s cause y’all Yankees don’t know how to cook!” He had a smile on his face. He purposefully thickened his accent for that one.

Peter opened his mouth to speak. Harley shook his head.

“It’s a joke,” he said. “I don’t have anything against people from the north.” Peter nodded. Harley took a better look around. “Except for that they don’t know how to cook,” he mumbled under his breath.

Peter rolled his eyes. He didn’t know how to tell Harley that he could hear him. This was going to be a problem that built up, Peter could tell.

Tony came into the kitchen. “Oh, good, you didn’t get far.”

“Hey, Tony,” Peter said.

“Hey. I gotta run. Morgan has the flu or something, and Pepper is going crazy. We’re gonna have to cut my portion of this trip short.”

Peter’s heart dropped. Tony was going to be the person keeping his head above water. Tony saw his disappointment.

“I’m sorry, Pete. I know you were looking forward to this. We can call though, or text or whatever you want. I just need to be at home right now.”

“Oh, no! I understand, don’t worry at all,” Peter tried to hide the disappointment in his voice.

Harley, on the other hand, did not. “Am I going to be able to see you anytime soon. Tony?”

“I’m taking care of my sick daughter, not leaving for war,” said Tony. “I’ll be back. Besides, I have to make sure you two don’t kill each other.”

"Better than being left outside, freezing cold in the middle of the street," Harley said. Tony rolled his eyes.

Peter was confused.

“Okay, well, I told Pep I was on my way, so I have to skedaddle.” He ruffled Peter’s hair and saluted Harley. Harley saluted back.

“Bye, Tony,” Harley said quietly.

“Don’t burn the house down. Peter, help him with anything if he needs it. You have my number too!”

“Will do. Tell Morgan I hope she feels better! Bye,” Peter waved.

“Bye, kiddo.”

“So, he’s just going to leave me and not tell me anything else?” Harley asked once he was gone.

Peter somewhat understood his pain. “He tends to do that. It’s okay, it’s not that bad here.”

Harley sighed.

Peter continued with his little tour, Harley continuing to confuse the shit out of him. He was mysterious, not a Natasha-level mysterious, but on a weird level of his own. His face was unreadable and his body language sent out multiple signals at once. At some points, he would be engrossed with something, at other points he seemed uncertain, and then sometimes, he just seemed flat out bored with Peter. It made Peter incredibly frustrated, which, coming to think of it, is probably exactly what Harley wanted. It was unfortunate how charming he came across.

However, when Peter got to the labs on another floor, Harley was ecstatic, which was something Peter could definitely appreciate.

“This is incredible,” Harley said slowly, marveling at the amount of tech in the room. He seemed gravitated towards most of the Iron Man related stuff, which was understandable, but he took time to look around at everything he could. Peter’s heart stopped when Harley got sidetracked and started to place his attention on some Spidey stuff, picking up a web-shooter. “Never seen this before,” he commented. “Some sort of shooting mechanism with a trigger...damn, the stuff that comes out must be tiny or deadly or something.”

One half of Peter trusted Harley because he _did_ help repair Iron Man armor and Tony referred to him as a genius before, but the other half wanted to grab the shooter from Harley’s hands— _my God, he has bigger hands than Tony_ —and yell at him like a mother scolding a three-year-old.

Harley looked up at him. “Do you know what this is?”

“They’re one of Spider-Man’s web-shooters.” Peter supplied. “I-I make them.”

Harley’s eyes widened. “You made this?” he asked incredulously. “Dude, that’s so cool! I’ve never seen a design like this, I love it. Did you say these shoot webs?”

“Yeah, here,” Peter took the web-shooter and clasped it around his right wrist. He checked to see if there was fluid. “You hit this button to release it. It’s formulated to hold weight like a web does for a spider. Sticks to anything and you can’t really break it. I designed the formula too.” He spat a web out as a demonstration.

Harley narrowed his eyes. “Shit. That’s crazy. I see why the old man loves you so much. You’re a genius.”

Peter blushed. “O-oh, thanks.”

“So who uses these again?”

“Spider-Man.”

Harley scrunched his eyebrows, Peter could tell he was in thought. “Who’s he again? Tony’s mentioned him once or twice but I can’t remember if I’ve seen him on the news or anything.”

“He manages local crime around New York. Once he saved some people when there was a bombing at the Washington monument. He went to space with Tony during the big alien invasion thing five years ago. He's an Avenger now."

“I remember seeing that thing with that dude on the monument on the news," Harley nodded. "He climbed up that whole thing. Crazy."

“Yeah,” Peter gave him an awkward smile.

“You seem to know a lot about him! Do you do all of his tech? Are y'all friends?"

_Yeah, fuck it. There was absolutely no way Harley wouldn’t know at some point._

“I...am him,” Peter told Harley in the most awkward tone ever. Peter hated himself right now. “So...yeah, I make a lot for myself.”

Harley went still. “You’re shitting me.”

“No.”

“Mr. Parker is telling the truth,” FRIDAY confirmed, interrupting them.

Harley blinked. “It all makes sense now. God, I'm so dumb. Tony talked about you all the time in our emails. He never mentioned you by name, but he was constantly mentioning things you did. When we planned for me to come up a couple months ago, Tony told me you would be there. And I didn’t understand why his intern would get more attention than me till now. Shit.”

Peter had no choice but to be embarrassed. Tony talked about him over the years to this kid he had never met. This was a little bit crazy.

“He, um...Mr. Stark talked about you a few times,” Peter started. “He talked about how you’ve been a genius since you were little, and how you helped him and everything. I also got a little jealous, if it counts.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t be jealous of me at all. I’m just a dumb kid who got in his way. You’ve got everything. He probably like, went out of his way to find you."

“I get in his way all the time as it is. On Earth and in space.”

Harley’s eyes widened a little. “What was it like in space?”

Peter swallowed. “Terrifying.”

Harley looked worried. “Oh, shit, wait, I shouldn’t have asked, sorry, I did that exact same shit when I was little—“

“It’s fine,” Peter shrugged. “I don’t have PTSD or anything.” _I think._

Harley relaxed. “Okay, I’m just checking with ya. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Okay.”

There was another silence cast upon them, and Harley reverted back to one of his unbearable and confusing looks. “So…” Harley started. “What all can you do as Spider-Man?”

“I guess I have super strength, fast reflexes, a weird six sense where I can feel things coming, and I can also climb walls and hang on to the ceiling and stuff. And I have heightened senses. It's a lot to keep up with." Peter was so stupid telling Harley about this, but it was for the better and saved Peter future embarrassment. Plus, who was he going to tell? He didn't know anyone besides people who already knew.

“But that’s just the suit? Right?” Harley asked.

Peter shook his head. “It’s in my DNA.”

“How the hell does that work?”

“A radioactive spider-bite,” Peter answered. He took the web-shooter off of his wrist and set it down.

“Oh,” Harley replied quietly. He didn’t have much else to say. Peter was somewhat thankful, but the last reply came off as passive-aggressive and Peter really did not want this kid to hate him or anything.

"Uh," Peter started, "also it's kind of like a secret, the whole Spider-Man thing. The public doesn't know who's inside the suit. But everyone who lives here knows for the most part. So that's why I told you...you just can't tell anyone else."

Harley at him, raising his eyebrows. "Who do I have to tell? I don't know anyone, I come from middle-of-nowhere Tennessee."

"...some random person interrogating you in the middle of the street in return for something...?"

"Do people  _really_ care that much?" Ouch.

Peter folded his arms. "You would be surprised. Seriously, you can't tell anyone."

Harley put his hands up in surrender. "I won't, I promise. I'm not stupid, Parker. Actually, I'm really smart."

Peter really needed to stop being so dumbfounded. "Yeah, I-I've heard," he said. “Do you want to see the rest of the compound?” he asked tentatively.

“Sure. I can spend more time here later. Do you spend a lot of time here?”

Peter nodded. “Too much, probably.”

Harley shrugged. “Understandable. You have superhero stuff to do.”

Peter wanted to scream. This is why he never told anyone who didn’t know him about Spider-Man. It would be their only knowledge about him. It was frustrating. Peter knew he had to let that go. Harley would eventually want to get to know him as a person at some point in his lifetime, right?

 

The tour subsided after a while. Harley went to go unpack, Peter texted his friends about his uncertainty and such, and dinner went decently. Sam teased Peter like usual, Nat shut him up, and Peter ate three helpings of food tonight, not without telling Harley that he had a crazy metabolism. Harley was in awe by the presence of Avengers, not as crazy as Peter, but Peter could tell by the way he talked to him. Sam bullied him for his accent. Harley bullied him back. It was definitely entertaining.

May didn’t make it home until after dinner (" _It's called supper, y'all," says Harley)_ was through, right as Peter was showing Harley how to work the TV so that he could watch a movie. Peter introduced her to Harley, and Harley seemed to work his charm on her. It was fine. Peter didn’t care.

Harley decided to watch The Breakfast Club, saying he did not need a reason when choosing to watch it. Peter didn’t feel like doing anything else, so he sat down on the other end of the couch to watch it with the boy, curling up with a blanket in his usual spot. Because he wasn’t interested in the movie, Peter took the opportunity to study Harley and try to see if he could figure out this kid’s facial expressions. His study came up empty. Harley had a blank face the whole time, except for when he smirked when something was funny. And the worst part was when the blond-headed boy looked over at him and caught him. Peter looked away as fast as he could muster. It was awkward. The movie ended, and Harley let Peter turn the TV off. Natasha and Sam had gone off to do their own things, and it was late. Peter yawned and got up from his comfy spot.

“Goodnight;” Peter told Harley out of habit.

Harley looked at him, somewhat surprised. “Night.” His voice was quiet.

Peter knocked at May’s door before she let him in. “I’m just telling you goodnight,” he said. She was still reading her novel.

“Oh! Goodnight, honey. Hey!”

“Yeah?”

May lowered her voice. “Harley’s super cute, isn’t he? He’s super sweet, too!” There was a playful smile on her face. The same one she used when Peter used to talk about Liz or MJ, back when he liked either of them.

“May…” Peter groaned. He had only been out to her for a year or so, telling her before the snap. She did this whenever a boy she deemed cute was anywhere near Peter.

“Oh come on, I think he likes you!”

“I don’t know about that,” Peter said.

“You’re no fun. At least be friends with him.”

“Goodnight, May. Love you.”

Peter checked his phone when he got back to his room. There was a text from Tony.

 

**_Tony_ **

_Hey kid. Sorry I had to leave so soon. I was excited to see what you’ve been up to, and I’m sure you were excited to show me. I’ll be back as soon as I can, and you can always talk to me over the phone but you know that._

_Also, not that you’re going to have a problem with this, but please be nice to Harley. He’s escaping some bad family issues. I know he can come off as a little shit as I stated earlier but he’s just trying to keep himself sane. Doesn't like to be soft. Don’t give him a hard time. Not that you would, obviously, because you’re a great kid, but just in case._

_Morgan says hi, and she misses you_

_Pepper made some spectacular lasagna tonight, you should have tasted it. Vegan too. She's getting fancy_

 

Peter’s door was still open. He looked across the hall to see Harley, who’s door was also open, and he was changing.

Peter looked away. 

Lying down on his bed, he sighed. Today may have set him off just slightly, but he wasn’t panicking about Spider-Man and world-ending matters. Instead, he got to deal with a weirdly passive dude with an unfortunately nice face from Tennessee.

A person who would be living with him for a long time.

Oh well, things could be worse.


	6. Who Are You, Really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title taken from the song who are you, really? by milky ekko

"Peter."

Peter groaned as he stood up. He looked around, hands in front of him, unable to see anything except for a black motion blur that came as he felt his way through a foggy abyss. He couldn’t see. " _Help!"_

_Not this again._

"Peter!"

His eyes were flashing now, between black and fog and black and fog like it was a scene out of some horror movie. His throat was constricted and it felt tightened and choked. A figure came out of the shadows and into proper focus. Peter's heart dropped as he tried to reach over, starting to plead. He couldn't move. The eyes seared into his brain, the red on his shirt bright crimson.

"Peter, you're stuck, I'm going to help you." The voice was so calm, so buried deep within his head and dragged dead out of his repressed and darker memories. Peter wanted to cry. He kept struggling to reach, but nothing was working. Again.

"Help," he croaked.

"I'm almost there, Peter, hold on." The older man approached, grey hair mixing with the smoky gases surrounding him. Peter started to fall back and dread filled his body as if he was drowning. He didn’t have any strength here. Spider-Man did not exist.

"No, please help, _help_!" the boy screamed. The figure slowed down and halted, Peter continuing to fall. It was too late

"I'm sorry," he said.

" _No!_ " Peter screamed. It sounded like he was underwater. He was drowning. "Uncle Ben, please!" He continued to fall, and it was getting faster and faster and he felt lightheaded and airy as everything became black the further down he went. Then out of the blue, to his right, another voice appeared, causing him to thrash around as he looked for the source.

"Hang on kid, I'm gonna catch you, I promise."

He kept falling, He lost his voice.

Then there was nothing.

 

_Wake up. Something's hovering beside you._

Peter's eyes flew open, and without even looking, he sprang out of bed. He clapped his wrists together immediately. A web was being spat from his shooters that attached the person's hands to the wall in time to Peter slamming their body against it too, for extra measure. He didn't even know who the hell it was. All he could register was the victim gasping and cursing under their breath, a groan coming when their back hit against the wall.

Peter's breath was heavy, eyes begging to focus at least on the person's face. They too were trying to catch their breath. The moonlight and a street lamp outside of his window gave Peter some light to see.

It took Peter three more seconds to realize he'd trapped Harley Keener against a wall and had yet to get off of him. The blue was among one of the first things he recognized. That and the wispy, dirty blond curls that were touching his forehead.

_Jesus Christ, Parker._

"That's right," Harley exhaled. "You have the whole spider thing." His eyes were closed as he sighed, and the brunet immediately backed off, staggering his words.

"Holy shit, I-I am _so_ sorry, I wasn't ex-expecting—"

"Yeah," Harley whispered, hissing. "Yeah, I think you just cracked my spine.” He tried to break the webs. “You were right. This shit is strong.”

Peter hoped his face full of embarrassment was invisible to the naked eye. He shivered. "I can help you with the webs at least. You won't be able to rip them apart." Peter muttered. "I'm sorry. I've been on edge ever since the snap, I get paranoid someone is breaking in..." his voice trailed off. He looked down. Harley sighed.

"It's impossible for anyone to get in here, you probably shouldn’t bust your ass worryin’ ‘bout that." Harley's voice kept a soft tone to it, quieted. "Can you get me out of this now?" His voice was also audibly a little tired, and his accent was a bit more noticeable in the late hours of the night. Peter was still embarrassed.

"Right," the brunet whispered, walking back up to the other. Harley closed his eyes and held his breath as Peter reached up, ripping the webs in two separate yanks. Peter could tell Harley was looking at him. He hated this. Harley definitely hated him. They met eyes, and Peter was still blushing like crazy, but they were equal. Harley was too. Peter realized the dude hadn’t even provided him with a reason why he was in his room in the first place.

Peter broke the silence, furrowing his brows. "W-why are you in my room at,” he glanced at a clock, “2:11 AM?"

Ignoring how tired and soft Harley’s voice had suddenly gotten, Peter listened. “You were yelling. I know what nightmares sound like. My sister had them all the time, and she would thrash around and scream, and once she hurt herself. So I came over to see if I could wake you up, and then you almost killed me.”

“I am so, so sorry.”

"It’s whatever,” Harley mumbled. “My fault. It’s habit to check on people, just in case. I won’t do it again.”

Peter blinked. “I-I appreciate your concern. I do. I’m sorry that I overreacted. My sense--it’s stupid, it doesn’t tell me ho is there if someone’s near me.”

“Makes sense. Serves me right, invading personal space and all.” Peter could hear Harley’s heart. It was going crazy.

“You didn’t know any better, you were just trying to help.”

“Yeah,” Harley agreed.  They looked at each other again. “I’m gonna go now.”

"Okay.," Peter gave him a tight smile,  watching him awkwardly step back and start to walk out of the room. Peter watched him. He didn't know why, he just did. The blond stopped in the doorway, turning back. Peter immediately ducked his head. He could hear Harley's heart again,

"Do you need to talk about it?”

“About what?”

Harley looked at him like he was stupid. “The dream you had. Not sure about you, but I don’t bite.”

Peter rolled his eyes at the comment. He had a feeling Harley wasn't gonna let this go. "I-I'm fine, but thanks for the offer."

Harley nodded in understanding. "Just asking. Sometimes it helps. I’ll see you in the morning," he said. He grinned, and Peter's heart rate elevated even though he was leaving. He wanted to punch himself. Harley shut the door, and the brunet laid back in his bed, eyes wide open, ears tuning into Keener's footsteps down the hall and the soft clicks of his door opening and closing. He checked a clock on the wall. It was now 2:20 AM. They were up late. Maybe Harley was like how Mr. Stark used to be, staying up in the early hours of the morning and working on whatever he could. Peter himself usually clocked out at 1, knowing he needed sleep and because May had always been (and still was) so adamant that Peter go to bed at the most reasonable time possible. And to be fair, Tony was too. One of the first Fridays ever spent with Tony at the compound, it was 11 PM when the man told Peter very seriously that he needed to make sure to get some sleep. Not only on May's orders, but on Tony's as well.

" _No skipping sleep and making 50 different web-shooters for you, Underoos,_ " he had said.

Peter knew that Harley and Tony weren't as close as they were, but the two were still important to each other. Harley never came to visit when Peter was around, Tony having said all they really ever did was email to check up on each other. He said Harley was never too keen on letting his sister stay alone with their mother, even just for a few days. And when Tony suggested she just come along too, Harley politely declined, saying she would get bored. (He got an amazing reaction out of Tony). He wondered what made him change his mind.

Peter didn't figure the same rules applied to Harley as they did to him, or at least they were never enforced, especially since Harley and Tony met while Tony was going through that no-sleep fiasco.

Back in the present, Peter debated on whether or not Harley was being sweet or creepy. He wasn’t creepy to start out with, and towards the end of their discussion, he sounded genuine. Peter felt so fucking bad. One day on the Try-Not-To-Make-Harley-Keener-Hate-Me train, he had already almost hurt him really badly because of his stupid sixth sense, out of everything Peter could’ve done to piss off Harley, the universe had decided this was the route to take.

It worked because Harley definitely sounded and looked pissed.

Peter hated how difficult this had already become. Granted, it wasn’t all Peter’s fault, Harley was a difficult person, but it just sucked. Peter couldn’t understand if Harley wanted to be friends or not. Peter knew that not everyone in life would like him, exhibit A being half of his school, but Peter did not want any trouble with a kid that Tony loved and who had been having a rough life. That just wasn’t cool. But at the same time, Peter couldn’t do much about it. Harley was the one being a jerk...right?

_How are you going to save the world when you're busy thinking about whether or not some stranger likes you?_

Peter wanted to slap himself. He seriously needed to start thinking more positively. There was an idea. Thinking about positive things about Harley Keener would help Peter not be so upset around him. He thought back to earlier in the day.

Harley was funny, cracking jokes with Happy, he was excited about living in the compound and Peter loved seeing his face light up when he saw one of the labs. Peter did that exact same thing years ago.

Harley sometimes had an interesting accent and cared about people enough to go make sure they were okay when having nightmares.

Then there was his face. He had a nice face. Peter could appreciate that. And his eyes.

He thought back to his blue eyes and blond waves, and his soft and inviting "See you in the morning," from the doorway. And the tiniest, minuscule smile he gave Peter.

Peter, with a tired mind, concluded that Harley Keener was not bad and that there were plenty of good things about him that Peter should pay attention to instead, and there was most likely room somewhere for them to be friends. And hopefully, Peter would not jump him again at 2 AM.

Before he went to sleep, Peter spoke up. "FRIDAY?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Parker?"

"Don't tell Mr. Stark about that."

"You got it," the A.I. replied in a soft and reassuring voice. It reminded Peter of Karen. Peter wondered if Tony could install Karen in the room too.


	7. You're Gonna Have To Let It Go, Someday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's harley time, y'all  
> chapter title from lost in yesterday by tame impala

Harley Keener was _such_ a fucking dumbass. It made the blond want to die. He was a dumbass!

He looked at the closed door of Peter’s room before cursing himself and shutting his own.

Seriously, everything had been fine when Harley was coming up. Tony had said that yeah, his intern was living at the compound too, and Harley was excited to meet him. Peter. He had heard so much about Peter, and yeah, _of course_ Harley was jealous. Peter Parker had everything that Harley wished he did. From what Tony had said about him while they were having lunch, Harley could tell Tony loved the kid.

 

Harley had never seen Tony as his dad, but he did see Tony as a role model, a possible mentor. He saw Tony as someone who could save him from his doom, like everyone else in the world. And it was a blessing that Tony didn’t completely cut off Harley after the Mandarin and gave him all of the tools and materials his little heart desired. They talked, emailed, and Harley kept Tony updated on his projects and Tony did the same. If Harley needed anything, blueprints, supplies, even some tickets to whatever movies he wanted to see, Tony Stark would have it on his porch within two days. 

And it was great, it really was. Harley got a college fund, a huge supply of technology, and by the time he was fifteen, Harley had completed his own version of the Mark 42 Iron Man armor (that's when Tony decided Harley needed to go to college). He was living life as lavishly as a kid from Rose Hill could.

The only problem? His lack of friends, alcoholic mother, and a lack of money for his sister’s surgery needed to be able to keep her mobile. That, and she was in desperate need of a new wheelchair. Abbie was growing fast. One day, in mid-May after school, Harley had a fight with his mother over it. Abbie had fallen after showering, and she was stuck on the ground, paralyzed. She remained in terrible shape for months. His mom said some stuff about Abbie that Harley wished he could unhear. That summer, Harley became depressed. Tony paid for teletherapy for the boy when he was informed of it, but Harley never let him know about Abbie. He didn’t want to put that burden on Tony. He didn’t want to be completely dependent on him. He needed to be able to handle things on his own, so he could try and force his mom out of her rut.

 

Abbie’s surgery was terribly expensive. Their shitty insurance didn’t cover much, and Harley forced his mom to withdraw from her retirement, but even that didn’t cover it fully, They were short a few thousand dollars.

Harley took up a job at the grocery down the street that paid nine bucks an hour to get the money. The work wasn’t terrible. His boss was a cranky old lady who smelled like cigarettes and body odor but knew his mom so they got along okay. His coworker was a cute boy a few years older than him who lived in the trailer park with his dad. He was short, with light hair and freckles. Harley had a crush on him, made out with him a few times behind the store, even had him over for dinner once to Abbie’s surprise. It was Harley’s first kiss, first time being enamored with someone. The boy made Harley confident in his sexuality. He made Harley’s job bearable, he made Harley happy. However, it didn’t last long, as Harley tried not to expect. Wishful thinking is an ass. One day, the boy showed up to work with a lipstick stain on his collar. Harley felt betrayed, scoffed when he saw it; and was an asshole to the boy until the day the dude quit and left Rose Hill to move to Atlanta, Georgia. Harley never saw him again, and quite frankly, it didn’t phase him.

Eventually, Harley made enough to cover Abbie’s surgery and buy her a Nintendo DS with MarioKart and Animal Crossing to keep her busy during recovery. Tony found out, was mad at Harley for not telling him so he could pay for everything, and Harley ignored him, for the first time in his life. A day later, Tony emailed him again, apologizing, and telling Harley that he was proud of him for everything. Harley accepted it, and everything was fine. That was around the point in time where Tony started mentioning a new intern he had. Harley scoffed. _Why couldn’t I be an intern? You’ve known me for almost 3 years!_ he would think. But it was fine. Tony still emailed him. Harley had to reassure himself of that.

Then, Harley went back to school. And because everyone knows everything about everyone in Rose Hill and Harley does not, the teasing about Harley’s forgotten fling began. Words were spat left and right at him, things Harley didn’t want to repeat. He ate lunch alone, and the anti-Tony-Stark club made up of the same people calling him a fairy told the whole school that Harley Keener was going to shoot it up, because “that’s what gay loner freaks do.” 

Among that group was EJ, who Harley was just so _fucking_ tired of. EJ ran into Harley when he was with Tony in 2013 so he could bully him. EJ almost died, and he would have if it wasn’t for Harley and Tony. On a Friday, in the parking lot of the high school, EJ made yet another joke.

“Got a Tinder date tonight, Keener? Tell your daddy I said hi. Or are you going to go polish your guns so you can come kill us all?”

Harley waited until a group of girls was passing by until he answered. “Hey, d’you remember when you fucking drowned when we were like, twelve? Do you remember who saved your ass? Me. I did. Right after you came up and made yourself look like a crackass in front of Tony Stark. Do you remember that, EJ? ‘Cause I coulda let your ass die. But I didn’t, because I’m a decent fucking person. I’m sick and tired of your bullshit. You owe me your fucking _life_. And also Tony Stark. Grow a pair of balls and get a new personality trait.”

EJ looked paralyzed.

“Move before I run you over,” Harley told him, getting in the car.

EJ only bothered him a few more times after that. It was the most satisfied Harley had felt in a long time. The only problem was that he still did not have any friends and he was still bullied. Just not by EJ.

 

Life went on. Harley’s depression subsided with Abbie feeling better and the start of college preparation, which made Harley excited so that he could get up and leave, and take Abbie with him. His mother kept drinking and quite honestly didn’t give two shits about either kids. Until she found out somehow about her son being gay.

Out of all the days in the world to have a fight with Harley, she chose the day that the aliens came back.

He was engrossed in the news, the school county having a day off (luckily) for parent-teacher conferences. Aliens had invaded again. There were worse things to worry about. Harley might die. Iron Man and a few superheroes had been seen in New York fighting the big aliens with the big circle ship, but then ended up going to space with them. Harley was fucking terrified. Iron Man might die. That was a big problem. The news hadn’t heard anything, besides reports that there were giant invasions and fighting in Wakanda. This was so much different than 2012 or the Ultron thing in 2015. Iron Man wasn’t even on the planet this time. Abbie sat next to him on the sofa, scared just as much as he was.

“ _Harley_!” his mother screeched.

Expecting there to be danger or something, Harley’s heart stopped and he grabbed a baseball bat from beside him. It was a false alarm. Harley’s mother was sitting at the kitchen table. Her old, cracked phone was in front of her, on.

“You alright, mama? Is everything okay?”

“Diane jus’ text me this mornin’” she slurred in a fit of anger. Harley dropped the bat. “Sayin’ summ” how Marie Ann said you was gay,”

“Mama, I don’t know if you’ve been watching the news, but there’s another invasion—“

“Quit runnin’ ‘at mouth’tha yours!” his mom grumbled. “Marie Ann says boys at schoo’ told’er you’s a gay and that you was bein’ gay with David Johns’n’s son ‘fore he moved’tuh Georgia. Is ‘at where you’ve been?! Bein’ a fa—“

Harley’s face was flushed with anger. “Mama!” he yelled. “There are aliens here again, we’re gonna fuckin’ die!”

“You...you deserve it!”

“You’re an absolute _bitch_!” Harley fumed.

“Mama, quit it!” came Abbie’s voice. Harley could hear her walker scraping against the floor. “Harley, you alright—“

She was interrupted by her mother. “What the hell—?!”

Harley’s eyes widened in fear as his mother started just...disappearing into ash. He stepped forward to try and grab her. “Mom!” She disintegrated as he touched her arm. She was gone. “Abbie! Abbie, _help_!”

A feeling of dread filled his body. _Shit_. He turned around just in time to see his sister in the doorway. She screamed his name in terror, and just like that, he was gone too. (Or at least, that’s what she said in her diary.)

Harley remembers it feeling like he passed out and then slept for what felt like an eternity. Then he just...woke back up.

He felt nauseous and dizzy, and he woke up on the ground. He looked up. The house was dark, dusty and vile. For a second, Harley felt like he was in a dream. He saw his mother across from him act the exact same way, and Harley remembered everything. He disregarded his mother and turned around, expecting to see Abbie. She was not there.

“Abbie?” he called out. His mom wailed, and he got up, groaning. He looked to his mom like she would give him any answers. “Where is Abbie?! What did you do with her?”

“Where the fuck am I…” she whispered.

“What the _fuck_ did you do with Abbie, Mama?!”

“Nothin’...!” his mom said. “I ain’t do nothin’!

Harley scoffed at her and dashed out of the kitchen. His heartbeat was erratic as he searched every corner of the house. “Abbie!” he yelled. “Abigail! Where are you?”

He checked her room, every room, every bathroom, in the closets and in the basement. Everything looked so different, like the house had been...vacant.

 Panic set in quickly and he cursed over and over again, running out the door.

“M’not done with you…!” his mom called.

Harley felt like crying, running to the garage.

The garage looked like it had been damaged by a tornado. Things were everywhere, smashed or thrown astray. Some things were just straight up gone. 

“Fuck,” Harley breathed. “Oh my God, holy hell—“ His heart tightened and he took a breath. He had to find Abbie, he would worry about this later. “Abbie! Abbie, _please_!”

No answer. Harley didn’t have the guts to look around. He left and closed the door.

He ran down the street. It was empty. Restaurants closed, shops ransacked, no cars, no people, nothing. It was a ghost town. Harley felt like he was going to have a panic attack. He couldn’t speak, could barely breathe. He barely finds the energy to make it down the main street before collapsing at an all too familiar area that doesn’t look the same as it did in 2013.

When he gets home, he thanks God that his mother’s phone is on the floor in all of its cracked disgusting glory. She’s sitting at the table again, crying.

“She’s fucking gone,” Harley’s voice breaks. “I can’t find her anywhere. Nobody outside. Everything’s gone.”

Harley’s mother moans in anguish on her own accord.

He’s going absolutely crazy. When Harley opens the phone, it says 2023. 

“What the fuck?”

 

Months pass and Abbie never returns. Harley finds her diary though, and that’s how he learns what happens. He had been gone for five years. Her last entry was a year ago. It’s a heartbreaking journal, and Harley cries reading parts of it. He reads about how she can’t sleep, how she’s having trouble getting around, how somebody broke into the garage and she couldn’t do anything and afterwards she felt like taking her life because that was Harley’s entire life and soul. She talks about the horror of living in a dystopia, how society collapsed and she later talked about  the semi-rebuilding process happening worldwide. She talked about the Avengers, and how they were “dead”. After mourning in little ol’ Rose Hill for far too long, she took a flight to Oregon to live with their grandparents. Her final words were a note to whoever found her journal. They sounded like words for Harley. He kept the journal safe.

Harley’s mother only gets worse. The boy helps a man a few blocks away reopen his sports bar and works there to try and distract him from his worsening mental health. It works, he starts to feel like himself after a bit, cracking jokes with customers and regaining his usual personality. His boss says people love his dry humor and bluntness. After his shifts end he takes time and cleans up his garage, salvaging everything he could and tears up with joy when he finds his Iron Man armor in a cabinet that he used to keep it a secret. It gives him an idea.

Harley emails Tony Stark eventually. Tony responds. They schedule a flight, Tony’s understanding, careful, and tells him most everything. He assures Harley that he will have a new home and tells him all about life at the compound, and Harley feels like a little kid again all excited over Tony. He starts packing as soon as everything’s settled. Tony sends him a new phone and says he’ll have plenty of clothes at the compound. Harley doesn’t really know what to bring, so he gets most of his nicer quality clothes and throws them into a duffel bag. He uses a big suitcase he finds in the back of his mom’s closet to hold what he deemed the essentials from the garage. He leaves his potato guns and his Iron Man armor locked up safe in the same cabinet.

Harley wishes it was easier to tell his mom goodbye. The night before he leaves, he sits in front of her passed out body that’s lying unconscious on the couch and he cries. “I’m leavin’ tomorrow.” he tells her. “If you were awake you’d scream at me. But you’re not awake right now. I really don’t want to leave you alone, but I’m going crazy here, Mama.”

He wakes up at 6 AM the next morning and polishes the scuffs on his Dr. Martens before grabbing his bags. Abbie’s journal is safe in his backpack with his house key and some extra cash he didn’t want to put in his wallet. He gives his mom a kiss on her forehead, still passed out, and he leaves. He takes a bus an hour south to the airport in Alcoa. A Stark Industries jet waits for him along with Happy Hogan, who Tony had told Harley about. Harley finds out that Happy’s name is ironic and he spends his flight teasing the man. Happy grumbles something about Peter Parker.

In the process of setting up his move to New York, Harley was told about Peter being there, and he told himself that he would be nice to the kid and be friends with him. Tony says he too got snapped and that they were only a few months apart in age. Like he said, Harley told Tony it was fine. He was excited.

 

And here was Harley Keener, one day into living at the Avengers compound and knowing Peter Parker and he had already fucked up multiple times because truth be told Harley was awkward and rude. And that was stupid, because southern hospitality existed and he was supposed to be an angel, but he came across as rude more often than not. He felt bad about it. 

Part of it was because he was nervous, because Peter just kept getting more perfect as the day went on and it was infuriating for Harley to be around perfect boys with perfect lives which in turn gave them stronger bonds with Tony Stark. It made so much sense now why Tony loved him and took him under his wing. He was kind, dorky, he had a crazy infectious smile, and he was a genius. Oh, and he was a fucking superhero on top of that. He was a perfect protege for Tony. And Harley was jealous, which then made him come across as an asshole like always. It’s not even like Peter could help it, which made it worse, because Harley felt bad about being an ass (most cases he usually didn’t). And of course, _of fucking course_ Peter Parker also had to have a cute face. Normally, around boys with cute faces, Harley would go into playboy mode and crack a joke or two, but this was not a normal situation, and Harley’s natural habits clashed and formed a bad mixture of being an ass half of the time and then the other half staring at Peter’s face because he was just so perfect that it was infuriating. 

And as if the day couldn’t get any worse, Tony’s daughter came down with the flu, and Tony had to leave. That was the most disappointing thing. Sure, they’d gotten lunch before coming to the compound and had a good bit of time to hug and catch up, but Harley hadn’t seen Tony in five (or in Tony’s case, ten) years and it was like the ultimate stab in the back, and Harley was sure Peter felt the same. And God, now poor Peter had to be subject to all of Harley’s dumbassery.

When he heard Peter do an all-familiar yell. Harley’s chest felt like it had been stabbed and his first instinct was to go make sure the boy was okay. After all of his years enduring Abbie’s nightmares, it became natural. But because Harley Keener was a fucking dumbass, he acted like a creep and stood in horror watching Peter have a nightmare. And it only got worse, because apparently Peter had a trigger when people were around him unexpectedly, and Harley ended up getting slammed against a wall by someone who did not look like he should possess that strength. And it kind of pissed him off, because he was reminded that Peter was a perfect person with cool superhero abilities, so he continued to be an ass to someone who had just had a nightmare and probably had never done anything to deserve Harley’s attitude in his whole life.

He really did hate himself. Harley made a mental note to genuinely be nice to Peter in the morning. He deserved it.


	8. Curtains Drawn And Closed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the tiny break!!! school booted back up for me and also I took some time to finish the outline. fic should be around 35 chapters, lots of stuff to cover!!! thank you again for all of your sweet comments, reading them gives me so much joy!  
> chapter title from dream by imagine dragons

Peter is surprised to see Harley in the kitchen cooking in the morning. His hair is ruffled, and he’s in the same sweats and shirt that he was in at 2 AM. Harley is cooking pancakes, and they smell great. He looks focused, and Peter doesn’t want to disturb him. The pancakes make Peter hungry, so after a while of standing awkwardly hoping that Harley will magically see him and offer him food, Peter sits at a barstool around the island counter, taking out his phone to look busy.

He notices Harley turn his way. “Morning,” the blonde offers him a smile.

Somehow, even though he was expecting it, Peter is startled by Harley’s voice. “Good morning, I uh--I didn’t know you could cook? I mean, I’m not opposed to it or anything, but--”

Harley cuts him off, adding another pancake to the stack. “I’m from a tiny town in Tennessee. Every cook down there is a damn good one, and they teach their kids, don’t know about y’all. My mom taught me while she was still sane.” Peter nodded absently, imagining a scene from something like The Help. “I’m assuming you want some?” Harley asked him. 

Peter stared at him, confused. 

“...The pancakes?” Harley asks again.

_ Right. Food. _

“I mean, sure,” Peter shrugs, internally sighing with relief. “I just didn’t know, I mean, maybe you made them all for yourself--”  _ That’s a stupid thing to say,  _ Peter thinks, but he doesn’t want to be rude.

Harley looks at him. “I started earlier with Natasha and Sam,” Peter envies how easy it is for Harley to use their first names, “figured I should rack up the brownie points while I can with Sam after what I endured last night.”

Peter chuckled. Sam never missed a day teasing anyone, especially new people. 

“Oh, and your aunt also stopped by before she left, loved ‘em as expected,” Harley grinned triumphantly. “She’s very nice.”

“May is the best,” Peter said fondly. “Wouldn’t trade her for the world.”

Harley set down a plate full of pancakes for Peter. It was a lot, jeez, Peter needed to ask if this was all for him. The toppings were already on the table. “I wish my mom was like her,” Harley continued. Then there was the ever-so-famous glint in his eyes. “She told me a lot about you.” There was a smile still on his face. Peter’s cheeks turned beet red.

“Oh God, of  course she did,” Peter groaned.

Harley chuckled. “Don’t worry, she didn’t say anything bad. She was like Tony, talking about how smart and how good of a kid you were.”

“That is so embarrassing.”

Harley shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “You should take it and run with it, like,” Harley stood straight up with his shoulders back and a smirk on his face in mock arrogance that Peter knew probably wasn’t fake, and said, ”’Yeah, I’m the smartest fucker here, what about it?’ I mean, you are an Avenger. Y’all are supposed to like getting bragged about.” He took a seat across from Peter with his own smaller stack of pancakes. “Are you gonna eat? You looked like a starving orphan and now you’re staring out into space.”

Peter looked at his plate then back at Harley. He didn’t even have time to respond to the boy’s other statements. “Is this all for me…?”

“Yeah,” Harley said. “I mean, you did say you had like, a fast metabolism or something like that at supper last night. You got thirds and absolutely cleaned the fridge out.”

_ Harley thought about that. That was sweet of him. _

Peter wished that he would stop blushing so hard, but he couldn’t help it. “I-Thank you. That—people don’t do that for me very often. At all.”

Harley furrowed his brows. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Peter shrugged, “people just forget. But thank you, I appreciate it.”

The pancakes were great. Maybe it was because Peter was actually really hungry, or maybe it was because his brain made him think they were good because he wanted to be nice to Harley, but nonetheless, Peter enjoyed them.

“Did you sleep any better last night?”

“Yeah…” Peter looked at Harley with wide eyes. He was hoping that maybe Harley was going to forget about that. Peter was liking not being awkward around Harley, but he guessed it was over. All good things come to an end.

“I’m really sorry ‘bout that,” Harley told him quietly.

“It’s fine, I promise,” Peter said. “H-How is your back?”

“Lovely,” Harley replied. “Sore, actually. You’re a lot stronger than you look.”

“I get that a lot.”

 

When they finished eating, their conversation stopped. Harley went to go to the lab. Peter stayed on the couch, texting his friends.

 

**_Ned_ **

_ Peter! Have u seen the news??? _

**_Peter_ **

_ No _

_ I’ve been busy _

**_Ned_ **

_ Omg there have been so many things happening! Where have u been dude??? Where is Spidey? _

**_MJ_ **

_ don’t flip him out stupid _

**_Peter_ **

_ What’s going on? _

_ Seriously Ned have I missed anything big _

**_Ned_ **

_ I mean yeah _

**_Peter_ **

_ Crap _

**_MJ_ **

_ peter hold on _

 

Peter was quick to get up and dash out, ignoring MJ, a sudden need to be  _ out _ flooding through his veins. Nothing sense related, just plain nerves. He reached the suit-up room in record time.

His heart rate accelerated as the suit tightened around his skin. He brushed it off.

God, Peter really had been so stupid to let Spider-Man slip away from him like that. He had been far too distracted lately. He needed to be there to patrol, he needed to be a hero. He had probably missed a ton. Karen greeted him as the suit booted up, Peter doing his routine checks to make sure everything was in order.

Peter used tiny jets to actually get to the city having been living at the compound upstate, but it was really no hassle. He had gotten used to it, and it was a way for him to have a tiny bit of time to get himself in order before swinging away. Friday greeted him as she always did as he got in and sat down, buckling up.

Peter didn’t have much time to himself this time. Karen connected a call through from Tony (which was not a complaint for Peter, he was happy about this).

“Hey, Tony!” Peter greeted.

_ “Hey, kiddo. What’s up?” _

“I’m on my way to go patrol. How’s Morgan?”

_“Sick,”_ Tony sighed. _“Nothing we can’t deal with though. She’s getting better. I think she likes being sick, because her juice pops help her sore throat. So, patrolling, today, huh?”_

“Uh, yeah. Hopefully there’s nothing too bad.” Peter swallowed.  _ Stop working yourself up, Parker _ . “So, why’d you call?”

_ “Oh, you know…”  _ Tony trailed off.  _ “I just want to know why you’ve been spending over twenty damn hours in the lab over the past few weeks without taking breaks.” _

_ Shit. _

“I uh…”

_ “Romanoff thinks that you’re getting in over your head and spazzing yourself out, and it’s concerning me, kid.” _

“Tony, I promise, I’m fine,” Peter knew damn well that was a lie.

_ “I know damn well that is a lie.”  _

Peter rolled his eyes. 

_“Listen, Pete,”_ Tony continued. _“I know what you’re going through. I know what it’s like, and it can tear you apart and put you in danger if you don’t get it under control. Mental health is not a joke, as much as I would love for it to be.”_

“I’m, fine, Tony,” Peter tried to convince him.

_“No, you spent the later years of your childhood under my mentorship and adopted a few of my coping mechanisms, you are definitely not okay.”_ There was a pause. _“May told me about the nightmares.”_

Peter felt like screaming. That pissed him off. Why was Tony asking about stuff like this? “Do I not have any privacy anymore?” Peter was a little surprised by his own tone.

_ “May only told me because she didn’t know what to do because she doesn’t share your trauma. So she asked me, because I  do _ _share your trauma and I have gone through the process of stitching the wounds. I’m not interrogating you or stalking you, I’m just concerned. And May is concerned, and Natasha and probably everyone else in that place. I’m telling you about this because I care about you, I love you, kid, and I can’t let you hurt yourself and/or make the same mistakes that I did. Do...“_ Tony sighed. Peter could practically see him, hand over his face in distress. Peter hated getting Tony stressed out. _“Do you get what I’m saying?_

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Yeah, I do. But I promise you, I’m fine.”

_ “Pete, I don’t want to argue with you.” _

“And I don’t want to stress you out,” Peter quieted his voice. “I am  _ okay _ .”

_“You can talk to me about anything that’s on your mind. I’m here for you kid. And I get that you’re trying to ease my thoughts because you’re too good for this world, but I can’t let things like this go. You’ve been through too much at too young of an age._ ”

Peter didn’t realize that he was fooling around with his mask. “It’s a lot of pressure. But it’s fine. I’m good. It’s been like this forever and it’s not going to go away, but I can adjust. I’ll be okay.” His voice broke.

_“I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t help you, Peter.”_ Tony was like a brick wall.

“I don’t need help.”

_ “You sound panicked as we talk, kid. I promise, I will not be upset or mad at you over this. You’re not being a burden or anything.” _

_ But I am. _

“Your daughter has the flu, shouldn’t you be checking on her right now?”

Tony’s voice got stern. _“Peter Benjamin Parker, do not guilt-trip yourself. You’re my kid too. you know that.”_

Peter felt a tear slip down his cheek.  _ Don’t cry, don’t cry. _

FRIDAY spoke up. “Mr. Parker, we’re nearing the drop-off point.”

“I’m here, I have to go,” Peter said as FRIDAY alerted him.

_“I wish you weren’t patrolling right now,”_ Tony sighed. _“But I also know I can’t stop you. Stay safe. I’m coming back up tomorrow to check on you and Keener, so don’t think I’m letting this go. Call backup if you need it. Do me a favor and don’t spazz yourself out.”_

  
  


Peter spazzed out and fucked himself over  _ bad _ . Really bad.

It wasn’t his fault. Maybe thirty minutes into the patrol, he spotted a mysterious van unload some foreign equipment that Peter definitely knew was not from Earth. Ever since the Vulture stuff, Peter had made sure to know how to properly handle things exactly like this before crashing another plane again, but this time, the guns were a lot bigger and stored in big shipping boxes to look discrete. Karen told him that those people were not actually mailmen, fakes instead, and with that, Spidey was off to investigate. He wasn’t nervous, really, and he took out the mailmen easily, keeping them webbed to the side with the weapons. He also decided to investigate what was inside the shady alleyway door, where the load was being dropped off. It looked like something out of a movie.

Upon entering, the lights were blinding (which wasn’t the issue, his suit automatically dimmed bright lights like this) and he felt like he had just walked into a weird cellar-base thingy.

He scanned the place to end up finding only one heat signature, a man in all black with some Bluetooth headphones in his ears while he sat at a singular desk, working at a set of computers. There were boxes everywhere, Karen telling him that they contained both weapons and files of some sort. The building itself had a strange layout with lots of hallways and some ominous doors that kept going further and further underground. Peter crawled on the ceiling, stealth mode style.

In a central room, the man was sitting at this desk silently, humming a tune. Peter couldn’t figure out what the man was looking at on his desktop, because he closed it and opened a tab to YouTube as soon as Peter spoke up from the ceiling.

“Hey man,” Peter said. “Just doing an inspection for the city. Obviously, I won’t dock any points if there’s spiders.” Immediately, the man pulled a gun and Peter dodged a bullet shot his way. “Okay! That’s an automatic failure, right there, buddy.”

They engaged in a fight, and the man didn’t respond, silent as Peter threw an uppercut at his face.

“Who do you work for, man? What is this place?” Peter asked as the man stumbled back. Peter smacked him down and webbed his body to the floor.

“Oscorp,” the man gritted through his bloody teeth.

“Norman’s selling highly illegal alien tech now? That’s a new low,” Peter shook his head as he started a data download from the desktop.

“I’m kidding, moron,” the man grumbled. “You’re fucking gullible.”

“Nah,” Peter said. “I knew it was a lie, man, you’re terrible at it. Oscorp isn’t secretly dealing weapons. If they were, I’d be over there right now instead of listening to you! Thanks for the idea, though, it’s not bad. I need a refund for the years of emotional trauma they’ve given me—“

_ Behind you. _

“Hey, it’s not cool to break outta that stuff!” Peter turned around and eyed the knives that were protruding from the man’s plate on his chest down to his feet. “That’s new and inventive,” he said. The man jumped over him and one of the too-sharp blades ended up leaving a long gash in Peter’s shoulder. He cried out a little, and that’s when the visions started coming back, Thanos and all. His mind tried to get him into thinking he was back on Titan, and Peter’s head started spinning and wow, did he just want this shit to  _ stop  _ because Peter was starting to lose his ability to  _ breathe _ . Moons and fire and mutant aliens were surrounding Peter as he began to have an upper hand on the man he was fighting, and that’s when he put his all into it, his shoulder still burning in the background. He couldn’t even focus on what he was doing in the present, head spinning violently. Every punch he threw was without a care, and heavy, violent. The man started yelling.

Eventually, Peter snapped out of it when he saw the man on the ground, bones broken and body bruised and bloody. His green eyes looked up to Peter, he was groaning. Peter’s eyes were wide. His shoulder was bleeding, dripping onto the man’s leg.

“Got you first, huh?” The man tried to smile. It was ugly and disgusting and bloody. He was missing teeth. His voice was in pain. “Took a pretty long time for you to take me out, S-Spider-Man. H-How are you going to be the next big th-thing...when you can’t take out a guy like  _ me _ ...in a punch…” His eyes closed.

Peter couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t say anything. The man’s voice sounded like a snake, his body all sorts of broken and dislocated and  _ holy shit, Parker, he’s going to die, you just killed someone. _

_ Snap out of it, Peter! _

“ _ Fuck _ —o-oh my God— _ shit _ ,” Peter heaved. The man’s voice was in his head, sickening and slow, his body right in front of Peter’s face. “Is—I can’t  _ breathe _ —is he d-d-dead?” Peter asked Karen.

“He has a pulse,” Karen told him calmly, “but he will need immediate medical attention. I will call emergency services to detain him. You are showing symptoms of a panic attack, Peter, and you should sit down immediately, breathe in and out to the animated diagram I have put on your screen.”

Peter closed his eyes, tight, trying to block out the oncoming sensory overload. It was a mistake opening his eyes. He could see the blood, smell the iron, his shoulder on fire and the man’s body looking especially grim. He spun around in a blur, grabbing the flash drive looking thing from the desktop and flinging himself back on the ceiling. His vision couldn’t keep itself straight on the way out, but he somehow made it out of the strange building and back onto the alleyway. The men he had webbed up earlier made a commotion, and the incoming police and ambulance sirens shrilled in his ears. He flung himself to a rooftop, lungs seemingly compromised as he gasped for breath. The world was crashing down on him, and he could feel wet tears on his cheeks. His ears were screaming, eyes burning, nose infiltrated and his skin on fire along with the open wound on his shoulder. It was the end of the world. “Blackout, Karen,  _ Blackout _ !”

“Blackout Protocol enabled,” Karen said. The protocol for his severe episodes. Almost immediately, Peter was dozing off. “Mr. Stark has been alerted and Mr. Wilson is on his way to take you back to the compound…” Karen’s voice faded as Peter passed out.

Yeah, Peter was fucked.


End file.
